A Simple Kiss
by thesolitary-dragon
Summary: When a highschool aged Reggie learns she hasn't recieved "the" kiss, it totally bums her out.  So Otto and the guys concoct a scheme to get her "the" kiss, problem is, Reg isn't aware of this plan.  Following the events of A Simple Kiss.  A RP romance.
1. A Simple Kiss

A/N: This is my first, and if all goes according to plan, will be my last true Rocket Power fic. I am, however, planning a Recess/Rocket Power crossover...hehe...that should be interesting. I've looked, and haven't found one done by anybody else. If anyone that reads this likes my writing style, and it totally bums them out that I won't be writing anymore, you could always mosey on over and check out my Recess fics, no hints, or bumps or anything...just mentioning.

Summary: This is a one-shot. When Reggie Rocket is informed that she hasn't received _the_ kiss, she gets a little depressed, and finds herself rethinking things about her life. Otto and the guys notice this, especially since it's detrimental to the time she usually spends with them. Determined to get Reg back out playing and hanging with the guys, Otto comes up with a plan to get Reggie _the_ kiss. But how will she take that?

ENJOY!

* * *

A Simple Kiss 

Wave after tumultuous wave crashed along the beachside, drifting into the ocean, and spraying water up along the sand. A young woman sat there on that beach, eyeing the horizon determinedly, or distractedly, depending on what a passerby would determine. There were surfers out there already, riding the waves. She narrowed her eyes on that of one surfer in particular, arguably the best out there. A boy with a deep-set tan, a wiry build, and soaked dreadlocks. It was her brother, after all, Otto Rocket. The wave died down, and Otto sat down on his board, another young man paddling over towards him. A young redhead adorned with a cap and a grin. They began chatting, laughing. It was his best friend, of course, Twister Rodriguez.

"Hey, Reggie," a voice called behind her. The woman turned slightly, being the Reggie this newcomer was referring to. She smiled at the two advancing girls. Trish and Sherry, two of her close friends.

"Are you hitting the waves?" Trish asked, her surfboard held tautly in her arms. Sherry giggled slightly, and Reggie raised an eyebrow. There didn't seem to be anything funny around. Sherry giggled again, smiling nonchalantly at the sand.

"What's with her?" Reggie demanded of Trish.

"Oh, she got her kiss," Trish shrugged casually.

"She's kissed before, what's the big deal?"

"Don't you know, Reggie, _the_ kiss?" Sherry pressed. Then frowned, at her obviously confused friend, looking to Trish and shaking her head, "She doesn't know what _the_ kiss is."

"Uh-huh," Trish muttered, glancing at the ocean, "Otto's really tearing it up out there."

"Yeah, whatever," Reggie mumbled, her attention completely on the pertinent blonde Sherry, "What do you mean _the _kiss, and why do you keep saying it like that?"

"You're kidding me, right?" Sherry laughed, "Reggie Rocket, Rocket Girl of Ocean Shores, has never had _the_ kiss, let alone, knows what it is. I would have thought you'd have had _the_ kiss at the very least."

"Will you stop that!" Reggie snapped, "What do you mean by _the_ kiss? I've kissed before, if you're talking about my first kiss, had it already. Done and over with. I called you and told you about it, remember? I kissed…"

"First of all, the guy has to kiss you, not the other way around. _The_ kiss is not any ordinary kiss, or anything so immature as a first kiss. Though, some would refer to it as true love's first kiss," Sherry giggled, "It's the end all kiss! The ultimate, blow your mind, sincerely awesome, most spectacular kiss. It's the first kiss that…well…help me out here Trish."

"You sound like you're doing fine on your own," Trish murmured, then rolling her eyes, "Reg, have you ever had a kiss that left you totally weak in the knees? So weak, you couldn't even stand?"

"…um…no," Reggie shifted slightly.

"Left you so lightheaded, you couldn't see straight?" Trish continued.

"Not that I can remember, no."

"Turned your face beat red from blushing, stopped your heart for just a moment, caught your breath?"

"Definitely a no."

"That afterwards, you're tongue automatically ran along your lips just so you could lick up the last remaining taste of him!" Sherry shrieked gleefully.

"Ew, no!" Reggie spat, her face contorting with one of confusion and disgust. Both her friends exchanged looks of sympathy.

"She's never had _the_ kiss," they surmised.

"It's alright," Sherry assured her unconvincingly, "You're still young. Though…most people have experienced _the_ kiss somewhere in middle school, usually around sixth, seventh grade. Honestly, Reg, you're a junior this year, and you've yet to receive _the _kiss."

"_You_ just got it today, didn't you?" Reggie cried. This conversation was taking its toll on her patience.

"Yeah, but I was waiting to have _the_ kiss with a cute guy in particular who've I only just recently gained the attention of…" Sherry giggled again. Reggie rolled her eyes, standing up, dusting the sand from her board shorts and shaking her head.

"Hey, Reggie!" a voice, undoubtedly belonging to Otto, called. She turned, eyeing the three boys racing up to her. Twister and her brother had picked up a burlesque blonde boy, Sam Dullard, along the way. She waited as they caught up. "Ladies," Otto greeted Sherry and Trish, and then to his older sister, "Did you catch me out there? Man, I owned those waves!"

"Aren't you gonna surf, Reg?" Twister asked, "I brought my camera, and I want to get footage of both Otto _and_ you out there."

They were sophomores that year, Otto, Twister and Sam. It embarrassed Reggie, now that they were all so much taller than her except for Sam, of course, who now stood eye level with her. It was harder to hold a position of authority over two boys who towered over her. Okay, so they didn't really tower over her, but they were taller and stronger now, which she hated. Telling Otto and Twister to stop horsing around wasn't easy when all they had to do was pick her up and toss her in the ocean, which they'd done to her humiliation, on a few occasions.

"I don't feel like it. I have to go rethink my life and every relationship I've had in the past," Reggie muttered; making her way past, up towards the sidewalk and away from the beach.

"What? _Rethink_ you're life? Wasn't it hard enough thinking about it when it was happening? Why would you go back and _re_think your life?" Twister inquired, shock evident in his perplexed expression.

"I'm heading to the Shore Shack, I'll catch you guys later," Reggie called over her shoulder, taking her surfboard and jogging through the sand towards the Rocket family's seaside restaurant.

"What's with her?" Otto cried, incredulously.

"Something is obviously troubling her," Sam concluded, looking to Trish and Sherry, "And since she was perfectly fine when we arrived her early in the afternoon, I assume you two have a part in this odd behavior."

"Awesome deduction work, Sherlock Sam," Trish replied, her eyes watching the shoreline, "But I came her to surf, not to explain the many mood swings of Reg."

"Then let's surf," Otto shouted shrilly, running back to the ocean. The others shrugged, following closely behind.

-0-0-

Otto frowned at his sister's closed door. He could hear her inside, clacking at her keyboard, probably writing an article for the Zine, the magazine she put together, or e-mailing someone; maybe chatting. Either way, he was not pleased with her. She hadn't been at the Shore Shack, like she'd told them, in fact, she'd never stopped there. They were supposed to hit Madtown that evening, before having to return home for dinner, but because the gang spent most of the afternoon and much of the evening looking for her, they never made it to Madtown.

Without bothering to knock, Otto pushed the door open, leaning against the frame and crossing his arms over his chest. Reggie glanced at him, before turning back frowning at her computer monitor. She'd paused, momentarily, from typing, but continued.

"What's up, Rocket boy," she greeted.

"Where were you?" he gritted, "We've been looking everywhere, and Raymundo said you never came to the Shack, so _where were you_?"

"I was right here, jeez," Reggie straightened, stretching her fingers, "My mind's just been on stuff."

"Oh, well, that's great," Otto rolled his eyes, "You're mind couldn't be on stuff at Madtown while shredding?" Reggie's eyes bugged out, her mouth dropping into a gape of realization.

"I'm so sorry, Otto, I completely forgot," she said, turning to face him, "You guys always could have gone without me."

"Well, _excuse us_ if we were worried about you," Otto groaned, shaking his head, and sighing heavily, "I guess it's okay. There's always tomorrow after school." Reggie smirked, lifting herself from the chair and heading to the doorway.

"Aw, I love my brother," she teased, giving him a quick peck on the cheek and breezing by. Otto frowned.

"Well, you're brother doesn't love you," he yelled after her, then quickly adding, "At the moment…" He followed her to the kitchen, as she pulled out different items from the fridge and cupboards to start dinner. It was her turn that evening, and Raymundo, their father, would undoubtedly be stuck at the Shore Shack late into the night. He was lucky. The difficulties of being a single parent were only eased by the responsible attitudes of his children - well, his daughter at least. Otto was a bit of a slacker; though he knew how to pull together when things needed to be done.

"Did you want chicken or fish for dinner?" Reggie asked, peering at Otto.

"I'm in the mood for chicken. Besides, you always dry out the fish," Otto commented, then, leaning on the counter, "What's wrong, anyways?"

"Nothing. Why would something be wrong?"

"Because the waves were totally wicked this afternoon and the Rocket girl I know and love would never pass up the opportunity to rip with her friends."

"It's nothing, alright, just something Sherry and Trish said got to me," Reggie mumbled, turning the oven on to preheat.

"So, Sam was right, it was their fault. What'd they say?"

"It's not _their fault._ There's no fault to be had. I just…well, something they said bothered me," Reggie opened the package of chicken breasts, laying them out on a baking sheet.

"What?"

"Apparently," Reggie snapped, trying to maintain some sort of composure, "I haven't had _the_ kiss."

"What?" Otto scrunched his nose, "This is about a kiss. Haven't you had your first kiss already? I've seen you kiss guys before…sucking like jellyfish…" He went into mocking her, closing his eyes and puckering his lips, "Oh…oh…I'm Reg, and I like kissing boys…"

"_OTTO_!" she cried, smacking his arm lightly. He stopped, chuckling. "I can't believe I thought I could talk to you about this. You're _so_ immature!"

"Okay, okay, I'll be serious," Otto snickered, grinning, "What does that mean, that you haven't had _the_ kiss?" Reggie eyed him skeptically, before sighing and continuing.

"Apparently every kiss I've had up to this point in time was nothing because it didn't make me act all goofy in the head."

"How 'bout we end this? I'll kiss you, and that'll make you act goofy," Otto suggested.

"It can't be my brother, Otto," Reggie rolled her eyes, "That's too weird."

"Oh, it has to be _that_ kind of kiss. I'll go get Twister and…"

"_NO_!" Reggie sighed, pushing the tray of chicken into the oven, "I'm over it, Otto. I don't care." Otto sighed with relief, slumping slightly.

"So you want to go to Madtown with us tomorrow, then?" he asked. She shook her head.

"No. I think I'm just gonna go home after school and work on the Zine," Reggie muttered. Otto's eyebrow perked at this. She definitely was not over it.

"I'm gonna go practice some new moves on the half-pipe," Otto told her, picking up the phone. She eyed him curiously. "I'm just seeing if Twist can come over and hang."

"I'll call you when dinner's ready," Reggie said, returning to her cooking.

-0-0-

It only took a few moments for Twister and Sam to slip into the Rocket's back yard where Otto was sitting on his skateboard rolling back and forth distractedly. They all lived on the same street, within a few minutes of one another. It was nice, being so close; it only made them feel more like family, able to rush over when one of them needed aid.

"This better be as important as you made it sound on the phone," Sam began, skipping the formality of a pleasant greeting, "Because I had to sneak out of the house to come here and if my mom finds that I'm not in my room like I'm supposed to be…"

"It is important," Otto cried, "Reggie's acting way whack!"

"What do you mean? Is she okay?" Twister asked, Sam and him turning on Otto with concern written along their faces.

"Yeah, yeah, she's fine," Otto shook his head, "She's moping around because she hasn't gotten some stupid kiss."

"A kiss?" Sam's brow furrowed, "But hasn't she already had her first kiss?"

"That's what I said," Otto whispered harshly, "But it wasn't the right kiss, or whatever. I don't know, but, man, Reg is out of it. She didn't want to surf today, she spaced on Madtown, and tomorrow she doesn't want to shred at all, she just wants to work on the Zine. Tell me, is that really more important than…than…us?"

"Now, Otto, I really don't think that it's so much being more important than us, then really something just on her mind," Sam attempted to sooth the convictions racing through Otto's head.

"All this because of some kiss?" Twister muttered, still back at the beginning of the conversation, "Girls. I'll never understand them."

"You and me both, bro," Otto conceded. His eyes lit up suddenly, a look that both his friends knew to take as trouble. "I got it. We want the old Reg back, right?"

"I don't see anything different about the Reg now…" Sam started, but Twister just grinned giving a yelp of 'right'.

"So, she has to have this kiss thing," Otto went on, "Then she can stop moping around the house and get back to hanging with us, right?"

"Uh…right," Twister sounded less enthusiastic than his previous agreement. Sam simply rolled his eyes.

"We have to get some guy to kiss Reg," Otto declared.

"Oh, well, now, I _really_ don't think…"

"Come on, Squid," Twister pleaded, completely engulfed in the picture of a moping, unhappy, and not-wanting-to-hang-out Reggie that Otto was painting, "We want the old Reg back…"

"I don't see any difference between the new Reg," Sam protested.

"How can you not see a difference? It's so obvious! It's right there in front of your face! It's…hey, Otto-man, what's the difference between the new Reg and the old Reg?" Twister turned to his best friend confusedly, his eyes wide and brimming with their usual innocent naivety, willingly waiting for his best bro to clear the fog for him and give him direction.

"What's the difference?" Otto cried, in disbelief at what he was hearing. How could they not see it? "Tell me something, Twister, what's the difference between surfing with Reg, and surfing without her? What's the difference between shredding at Madtown with Reg and shredding without her? What's the difference between meeting at the Shore Shack with Reg, and meeting without her?"

"Oh, I _know_ this one," Twister beamed triumphantly, then meekly answering, "Reg?"

"Exactly," Otto nodded and Twister's grin broadened.

"That doesn't prove anything," Sam stammered, staring between the two boys in shock. He could understand how Twister was buying into it, but could Otto really think that? The back door opened and Reggie's outline filled the entrance.

"Otto, dinner," she called.

"Hey, Reggie," Sam and Twister greeted and she smiled half-heartedly to them.

"Reggie, I was thinking of coming by to show you my new layout program tomorrow, InDesign. It'll be great for putting the Zine together," Sam suggested.

"I don't know, Sammy," Reggie replied, "I'm gonna have a lot of homework to do tomorrow…and I was going to be working on something else, anyways."

"Oh, some other time, then," Sam mumbled. Reggie nodded.

"You coming, Otto," she said, attention back on her brother.

"I'll be just a minute," Otto told her, and she nodded again, slipping back into the house. Sam turned to the other two boys determinedly.

"How do we get the old Reggie back?" he demanded. Otto and Twister grinned.

"First thing we have to do is figure out what guy we want to pucker up to Reg," Otto explained, "Make a list tonight, of possible candidates, and we'll talk about it tomorrow at school, during lunch." The other two boys nodded agreement before breaking up and heading home.

-0-0-

Reggie sighed, tapping her desktop. She looked into the vanity mirror situated on the wall, studying her reflection. Kissing was a mystery to her. Boys were a mystery to her. Hell, liking boys was a mystery to her. She never understood why her heart pace quickened when certain guys gave her attention, never understood why girls suddenly felt the constant need to talk about boys and kissing and dating and hugging. She never understood why getting a boyfriend all of sudden seemed so important. She thought she was starting to understand how things worked. And then Sherry and Trish kindly pointed out to her, unwittingly of course, that she wasn't.

"All that's missing in my life is a kiss?" Reggie muttered, "A simple kiss?" She'd never felt all those things described when guys kissed her, when she kissed guys. Was she incapable? Was that it? Was it possible that Reggie Rocket was incapable of love? She had never understood the big deal about kisses, turns out she's been doing it wrong all along.

There was a picture in the corner of the vanity mirror. Reggie sighed. She knew what the picture was of, the smiling face of her mother. She didn't blame her mother for not being there, death wasn't something you could lay blame on. It was hard, growing up without a proper mother to explain things to her. She went through puberty on her own, practically. She couldn't discuss it with her father, who himself didn't want to believe his little girl wasn't a little girl anymore. And there was no way, not a snowflakes chance in hell; she could talk things out with her brother. Sam and Twister were ruled out in much the same reason and fashion that Otto was. Sherry had too big a mouth to discuss such private matters with and Trish wasn't the type to get _too_ personal often. It was isolating.

"This is stupid," Reggie announced, "It's not like I'm cold hearted, it's not like I can't feel or anything…" she sighed. Was it?

-0-0-

"Michael Prichard," Sam was reading off his list; which contained a great deal of names from his computer classes and club.

"His lips are covered in zits, man," Twister said with disgust, sticking out his tongue, "A _toad_ wouldn't want to be kissed by _him_ for fear of getting warts!"

"He's a nice guy," Sam scoffed, straightening his glasses indignantly at the insult to one of his friends, "Alright, what about Chris Maiden."

"_Lame_-o," Otto muttered with disinterest. He'd listened to Sam's entire list since they'd taken up occupancy at their usual lunch table in the cafeteria and quickly dismissed each suggestion made.

"Eddie Valentine?" Sam suggested, half-jokingly. The other boys looked at him blankly.

"_No_ comment," Otto finally said and light chuckles broke out amongst them.

"You've shot down every name on my list," Sam sputtered, "I guess it's Twister's turn." Twister livened up at the mention of his name, pulling from his back pocket a folded napkin with scribbling across it.

"Okay, my first one was…" he squinted at the writing, unable to read his own chicken scratch, "Matt Phelps."

"Who?" Otto demanded.

"He's a senior…I went through the yearbook," Twister shrugged.

"Brilliant," Sam shook his head, "But how do we approach someone we don't even know and ask him to kiss someone he doesn't even know?"

"Seemed like a good idea at the time," Twister whined.

"Do we know _anyone_ on your list?" Otto asked. Twister gave it a once over before shaking his head. "Alright, fine, let's get to my list then." He opened his notebook where a few names were written along with a lot of doodles and some math scratch, "Hm…Vernon Stickler."

"He's denser than helium," Sam said, "Twister's smarter than him."

"Yeah, _I'm_ smarter…hey!"

"But have you seen the guy with a hockey puck?" Otto argued.

"Next," his two friends said in unison.

"Alright, alright, what about Kurt Briggin?"

"What about him?" Sam groaned.

"He's a great skater, for one thing…"

"He's a bully," Sam protested, "I'm sure he's an awesome skater, Otto, but it's kind of hard for me to tell when he's shoving me in my locker!"

"Alright, fine," Otto frowned, "Dallas McCarty? Now that guy can get serious air on the slopes."

"No way, he sat on my backpack once and crushed my camera," Twister protested.

"Otto, are we picking someone out for you to kiss, or your sister?" Sam teased and Otto slumped in his chair.

"I just think that…you know, he should be someone cool, instead of a lame-o like all the guys on your list," he spat. Sam pouted. They were taken by surprise when a shady young man slinked up behind them, taking a seat next to Twister and Otto and wrapping his arms around their shoulders.

"Now, I just heard that you dork…er…I mean, not-so-dorks were looking for some guy to plant a juicy one on Reg. I just thought I'd mosey on over and tell you, I'm your guy," the young man grinned. Otto scowled at him, tossing his arm off.

"Get lost, Lars," he sneered, "We're looking for some guy, not some monkey."

"Yeah, Lars," Twister growled, following Otto's example and pushing the arm away, "Go away. We're looking for someone to sweep Reg off her feet, not send her running to the nearest toilet!"

"Whatever," Lars growled, "Rocket dork. Your sister would be lucky to have a kiss from me." He stormed off, giving them one final glower over his shoulder before leaving the cafeteria. Otto turned a wary eye on Twister.

"How does your mongoloid brother know what we're doing?" he demanded. Twister chuckled nervously.

"He wanted to know why I was writing down names and what I wanted his yearbook for…" he explained, then grinning goofily, "Doesn't matter anyways. If Lars ever tried to kiss Reggie, she'd whomp him for sure."

"If Lars ever tried to kiss my sister, _I'd_ whomp him," Otto growled, then, taking a moment to regain his composure, he looked back over his list, "There's always Trent."

"Hey, that's a pretty good idea," Sam spoke up, snapping his fingers, reminded of the attractive young man from New Zealand, "We all know that Reggie likes Trent, and the other way around, and that they get along well."

"Nope," Twister muttered, and the other boys turned to him.

"Why not?" Otto demanded, "He's a primo surfer, and _I guess _all the girls like him." Needless to say, Otto didn't like admitting anyone was better at anything, especially with the "ladies" than him.

"I don't like him," Twister shrugged, "I don't know why, but he seems…I just don't think he's right."

"Jeez, Twist, when you put it that way…" Otto mocked, shaking his head, "I think we should go with Trent."

"Alright, alright…it's because he's too macho, too suave, too many girls hang around him," Twister spat, "He looks like the kind of guy who's kissed hundreds of girls and broken all of their hearts. Do you really want to do that to Reggie? Do you? _Do you_?"

"Okay, jeez, calm down," Otto cried, glancing around nervously at their peers intently staring at them with curiosity and surprise, "We won't go with Trent." He shook his head, closing his notebook, "That's everyone on my list. That's all the guys we know?"

"Well, there's always us, actually," Sam mumbled, removing his glasses and cleaning them awkwardly, before placing them back on his nose.

"So, it's between us," Otto mused, then grinning, "It can't be me."

"Why not?" Twister demanded, and both Sam and Otto gave him odd looks, "Oh…"

"It can't be Twister either," Otto decided receiving a bemused look from the other boys.

"Why?"

"Because, he's almost like Reggie's brother, and back at home she sounded really against kissing him," Otto explained and Twister looked only slightly hurt, before becoming intently preoccupied with eating his sandwich, "Besides, Twist is like my best bro and Reggie is my sister. It would be weird if they kissed…hell, it'd almost be like him kissing _me._" Twister nearly choked on his sandwich at that, hacking up the swallowed bit of food and gasping for breath.

"Don't say that kind of stuff, Otto, I'm trying to eat here," Twister cried in disgust. They broke into laughter.

"That leaves the Squid," Otto finally managed to say through his mirth.

"M-m-m-me?"

"The Squid?" Twister scrunched up his nose, "Are you kidding me? Why him?"

"He's all we got left," Otto explained, "Give me a good reason why he shouldn't be the one?"

"Because he's against it," Sam piped up, and Otto glowered down at him.

"Because the Squid's never kissed a girl before," Twister argued, "Because it would be weird, because it…"

"We've turned down every other guy. It's either the Squid, or Trent," Otto snapped. Twister frowned, pouting at his half-eaten lunch.

"Alright, fine, the Squid'll do," he finally sighed.

"Does the Squid get any say in this?" Sam cried.

"Come on, Sam, good buddy, best bro," Otto begged both him and Twister turning, pleading, puppy-dog eyed, whimpering, "You _have_ to. For Reg, man." Sam sighed heavily, looking to his own food with a beleaguered frown.

"Okay," he gave in.

"Great," Otto grinned triumphantly, "After school, today, my house. Reg says she'll be working on the Zine, but I bet she's just going to be sitting around in her room moping."

"Great," Twister agreed, smiling broadly.

"Great," Sam muttered, feeling slightly sick.

-0-0-

As Otto had predicted, Reggie was relaxing in her room after school. She lay on her bed, headphones blasting music in her ears. Sam knocked, shifting slightly. The door was open, but he felt it was better to wait until she invited him to come in. Of course, she couldn't hear his light tap on the door, and her eyes were closed, so an invite wasn't happening anytime soon. Otto, pacing the hall anxiously, passed Sam and gave him a slight push forward.

"Otto," Sam hissed, but the commotion caught Reggie's attention, and she sat up, removing her headphones and turning off the music. Otto took a seat next to Twister, down the hall near the stairs where they couldn't be seen.

"Sammy, what are you doing?" Reggie demanded, smiling at him pleasantly.

"Looking…ahem," Sam winced; his voice was a nervous squeak. He entered the room, shutting the door behind him, "I was looking for you."

"Oh, what's going on?"

"Um…well…I was…hoping to…" Sam stepped forward, sitting slightly at the end of Reggie's bed and edging closer. Reggie's eyebrow perked.

"You okay, Sammy?"

"I just…was…going to…" he leaned in, pressing his lips together. Reggie moved back, staring at him in slight fear and shock.

"What are you doing?" she demanded. Sam's head slumped.

"I was going to give you a kiss, so that…oh, it's ridiculous," he moaned, "I'm so sorry, Reg, but you see…we were all worried about you and Otto came up with this idea of how to make you feel better, and…I'm sorry to say, I went along with it, _regrettably_, and have you seen when Twister and Otto beg? It's not something you can turn down! It's like they double-teamed me!" Reggie crossed her arms over her chest, scowling.

"Explain, _now_."

"Well, Otto said you were upset because you hadn't gotten some kiss, so we decided to find some guy to give you the kiss - jeez, now that I'm saying it aloud… - but um…anyways, eventually we went through all our lists of possible guys that could kiss you, and somehow it was whittled down to me," Sam sighed, "I'm here to kiss you so that we can all go shred at Madtown." Reggie pursed her lips, rolling off her bed and storming out the door, Sam following sheepishly behind.

Otto and Twister had relocated to the kitchen, forming a little picnic of snacks across the counters and along the tabletop. They were, to put it mildly, surprised when Reggie advanced on them, her hands coming down to grip each of their shoulders menacingly. They both gulped upon seeing her expression.

"You two better have a good reason as to why Sammy was trying to kiss me," she growled, "And this better be some sort of weird prank!"

"But Reggie…" Otto cried, "We were just trying to make you feel better! We thought if you had "the kiss", then…"

"_We_? Bro, that was all on you," Twister argued, "Reg, I'm sorry, please don't punish me…I didn't know what Otto was talking about, you know how I am!"

"Ugh," Reggie groaned, pacing back to the hallway, before stopping and turning on the three boys, "I honestly don't know what to say! Otto, how could you be so…so…immature, such a moron, coming up with this ridiculously stupid plan? Sam, how could you possibly go along with such a lame plan? Twist…well…I can understand Twist…but the both of you!"

"Hey!" Twister cried out indignantly, but fell silent when Reggie turned her glare on him.

"It's a stupid kiss, that…I don't even care about! You can't send Sammy up there to kiss me, because that doesn't mean it's going to be the kiss that I'm supposed to be getting…or…_ugh_! When it happens, it happens! I was just thinking things through, that's all! It has nothing to do with my having this stupid kiss or not, it's just…oh, I don't believe you guys! It can't be something you plan; it just has to be right! Jeez…I'm going to Madtown. _UGH_!"

"We'll come with you," Otto offered.

"No," Reggie snapped, "You three stay here and think about what you've done! I don't want to see any of you right now!" She grabbed her gear, slamming the door shut behind her.

"Awesome plan, bro," Sam sneered to Otto.

"Shut up!"

-0-0-

Reggie moved through the school halls on her way to the soda vending machine, her dollar clutched in her hand. It was lunchtime, and her mind was still on the "brilliant" plan of her brother's the day before. She hadn't spoken to him that night, eating the dinner he made in silence, giving a grunt of approval and locking herself in her bedroom. She knew it wasn't fair being mad at the boys. They'd had the best intentions in their hearts, but the way they went about it…she paused. The halls were basically empty, all the students already rushed to class or in the cafeteria eating lunch. Their was one lone figure at the machine, backpack slumped over one shoulder, skateboard in hand.

"Hey, Twist," Reggie attempted, flustered, wondering how he'd take her talking to him after the blow up the other day. He glanced, met her eyes a moment, and smiled somewhat.

"Which one did you want?" he asked, the glowing numbers an indication that he had yet to purchase his own soda.

"The coke," she replied. He punched the button, bending and handing her the drink before clinking in more change from his pocket. She attempted to hand over her money, but he shook his head.

"It's only a dollar, no huge loss," he grinned, getting his own drink.

"Thanks," she mumbled. She stared down at the soda, wondering if she should apologize. She knew that it wasn't Twister's fault, that he had a way of simply going with whatever cockamamie scheme her brother came up with, never thinking of the consequences. He was a little; well…he'd do anything for Otto, almost. He turned slightly, before she had the chance to say anything, so she made to leave.

"Reg," he caught her elbow softly with his hand, her head moving back towards him. She barely had the chance to realize what was happening as his lips brushed against hers. She knew she should protest, move away, push him away in shock. But she didn't. She closed her eyes, hadn't even realized it, and unconsciously stepped forward, deepening the kiss only a slight bit. When he pulled forward, breaking the connection, she stumbled slightly, uncertain of what to say. She tried to meet his eyes, but couldn't seem to get the room to stop spinning. She'd forgotten to breath, her heart pounding in her chest. His eyes were on the ground, his cheeks red. He had freckles. She knew that, before, but it never seemed as important as it did at that moment. "That was right, right?" he mumbled, his hand falling from her arm, to his side.

"Um…thanks," was all she managed to get out. She was gripping the wall, she hadn't noticed, but she was gripping the wall behind her for the support. She bit her lower lip gently; it tasted like him. She was flushed, her cheeks undoubtedly a bright red. She wasn't supposed to know what he tasted like. More importantly, she wasn't supposed to be craving his taste! He nodded, turning stiffly, and walking awkwardly down the hall towards the cafeteria, visibly shaking. As soon as the doors shut behind him, she lost all composure, her finger coming to trail along her lips, her legs giving out beneath her as she slumped to the tile floor. She couldn't help the serene smile, nor could she help the light giggling that escaped her throat.

Maybe it was fortunate that Sherry and Trish walked by that moment on their ways to the cafeteria. They paused, staring at Reggie blankly. They questioned her well being and all she could manage to get out was "kiss".

"She got her kiss," Sherry squealed, and she laughed, grabbing Reggie in a hug and jumping up and down. Trish managed a congratulatory smile.

"Cool," she breezed, "Who was it?" Sherry nodded, helping Reggie to her feet.

"Yeah. Spill. Who gave you _the_ kiss?" Reggie shook her head. She couldn't tell them, she couldn't possibly tell them who it was. They'd laugh, at her, and at him. She wasn't sure if he wanted everyone to know, anyways. She wasn't sure what it was about. It was just a kiss, right? Just him trying to make her feel better. But they'd all read so much more in it.

"Come on," Trish pressed, "Do we know him?"

"Well, yeah…but…" Reggie shrugged, chewing her lower lip.

"Aw, come on, we're your best friends," Sherry cried.

"I can't…" Reggie saw her brother and Sam paused across the hall, staring at them oddly, "Let's go eat," she stated, leading the way over to the cafeteria.

They all walked together after school, Trish, Sherry, and Reggie with Otto, Twister, and Sam.

"We're going to the Shore Shack, right?" Otto asked.

"Definitely," Reggie agreed, "And then surfing. I heard the waves are gonna be raging this afternoon."

"Awesome!" Otto commented, looking with a grin at his sister, "Does this mean Rocket girl is back?" Reggie rolled her eyes, and they briefly landed on Twister, who was staring at his feet and walking silently.

"So, who was it?" Sam spoke up, "That kissed you?" Twister turned a particularly red shade, fumbling with his backpack in a panic, and glancing nervously at Otto. It was obvious he didn't want his identity as Reggie's mysterious kisser revealed.

"Since when is it any of your guys' business?" Reggie demanded, then, smiling slyly, "All I can say is he's a really awesome kisser."

"Really?" Twister said, looking up eagerly.

"Oh, well that's great," Otto rolled his eyes, "That could be _anybody_!"

"Then don't dwell on it, man," Twister told him quietly.

"It was Trent, wasn't it?" Otto went on.

"What? No!" Reggie snapped, blushing slightly at that thought.

"Tell us who it was," Otto whined.

"No."

"Come _on_!"

"No."

"_Reg_gie!"

"Leave it alone, Otto."

"Yeah, Otto, leave her alone."

"Stay out of it, Twist! Reg, who?"

"It just kills you, that you don't know, huh?"

"You're enjoying this too much!"

"This could take hours," Sam surmised, with a click of his tongue. The group rolled their eyes, leaving the siblings behind staring one another down. Twister trailed back a little, a raised eyebrow, looking warily to them, rubbing his arm nervously.

"Maybe you should just tell him, Reggie," he mumbled, though it was evident that was the last thing he wanted her to do.

"No, this is fun," Reggie laughed, "Maybe later. _Much _later."

"Reg_ina_!"

* * *

END A/N: I apologize for the oddity of this story, I was in a weird mood. And if any of the characters were a little...well...out of character...I don't watch the show as often as I would like to (work and school always get in my way), but Twister is my favortie character ('cause he's such a cutie), and since the first time I saw the show I was convinced Twist and Reggie were made for one another, or at the very least, Twist had a thing for her. 

I didn't know where to end it either.

Please excuse any grammatical and typing errors.

Now that you have read, please, go forth and _**REVIEW**_! I did my part, gave you an (arguably) awesome story to read, now the great thing would be for you to do your part, and give me a little **_REVIEW_**! Whatever you think of my story, just throw it on a little **_REVIEW_** type message, and send it and...I'm blabbering on and on about this subject so I'm gonna stop...

THANK YOU FOR READING. Peace.


	2. Complicating A Simple Kiss pt1

A/N: Alright, I know I said this would be a one-shot, and originally, that's all it was going to be...however, a few reviewers expressed interest in seeing me continue this story, and to be honest, I saw no reason to oblige. It's for the reviewers that I write. There are a few things you'll all soon learn about me...I'm a liar, I'm a bitch, I'm a pushover, easily persuaded, and nothing I say is final. Yup.

Thanks for your reviews; bob (NO, you are SO cool, afterall, you're bob!, not to mention the first to review...), VUWildcat, ElentariAngel (This one's for you, as you were the first to express interest in it continuing), RavenForever (YAY! You follow me everywhere...TO THE ENDS OF THE WORLD!...er...or just wherever I post a fanfic...), twistedRrocketLuv, RoxySurferGurl623 (Please don't cry, see I continued...)

Summary: When a rating game in the Zine leads to the revelation of Twister asReggie's mysterious kisser, things get a little complicated. Whereas, the two have yet to discuss what the kiss meant, and both have different thoughts of what was behind it and what it means.

ENJOY!

* * *

Complicating A Simple Kiss: Part 1

The sun was just beginning to peek out of the horizon, streaming rays of light down upon a small cul-de-sac. A young man sat on the curb outside of his house, leaning back on the sidewalk and staring out at the empty street. He was a familiar face in that neighborhood, known as Twister Rodriguez, though christened at birth as Maurice. It was an early Saturday morning, a might early for him to be awake. He was sporting a bruise on his cheek, and was slumped rather oddly, wearing a pained grimace, revealing that maybe that cheek wasn't the only injured party on his body. He'd gotten in a fight with his brother, Lars, the night before and it hadn't ended in his favor, though he had held his own fairly well. His parents were out of town, which meant there had been quite a few confrontations in the Rodriguez household the past few days. None of them ever ended well for Twister.

There was a resounding slam as a nearby door on the street opened and shut. A young woman made her way down to the sidewalk. She paused, noticing him, and smiled.

"Hey, Twist," she greeted.

"What's going on, Reg?" he replied, turning a slight pink in the face. Normally she would have come over to sit next to him, and they would chat about their plans for the day, their upcoming hockey game with Lars's team, and the possibility of going over to the Shore Shack for a little lunch that afternoon together with their other friends. But as Reggie fiddled with her t-shirt hem, and Twister studied his shoes, there was no doubt that things were not normal between them. Their minds were, needless to say, on kisses, and one kiss in particular. One they'd shared. They hadn't talked about it, almost silently agreeing that it was to be forgotten. And they did, for the most part, forget about it. When they were around their other friends everything was normal, and there was no awkwardness, no flustering. Things were as they'd always been. Twister and Reggie could talk and goof off like nothing had ever happened. But, then, when they were alone together for brief moments like the one they were sharing at that time being, an uncomfortable silence always seemed to cloud over them.

Twister frowned. He hated this. He'd always felt so at ease around Reggie before, and now…now he always had this lump in his throat, and his heart pounded so loudly in his chest that he couldn't hear the words she would say. Facts were, Twister liked Reggie. He always had, and ever since they'd both reached that stage of puberty when the hormones began to rage, and girls no longer had cooties, but several noticeably pleasant attributes, she was all he usually could think about. His guy friends would chat about girls and which one they thought was attractive that week, but Twister never joined in. They'd ask girls out on dates, to be steady girlfriends, but Twister never had. He couldn't tell Reggie, but that kiss was his first. It had meant a great deal to him, and been the bravest thing he ever mustered the courage to do; which said a great deal, as he was generally a courageous young man. It wasn't so much that he couldn't talk to her now, more so, that he was afraid to. She held in her hands the fate of his heart, and that was a scary thing.

"What happened?" Reggie demanded, and Twister looked up in shock at the quaver in her voice. She was staring intently at the discoloration in his cheek, concerned and enraged. Twister raised a hand to touch the raw skin gently, wincing as it moved some other rather sore muscles in his body.

"Oh, me and Lars got in a fight," he explained, then, putting on a brave face through his grimace, "It looks worse than it really is." Reggie scowled, making her way towards the Rodriguez house. "Where are you going?" Twister asked.

"To see Lars," she answered, "And for his sake, he better look as though he's in just as much pain as you." Twister was on his feet in an instant, which wasn't an easy feat, as his stomach, shoulder blades, and chest had taken the full assault of his brother's beating the night before and was in no condition for such swift movements. He placed his hands on Reggie's shoulders to restrain her.

"Chill, Reg. It's cool, I'm fine, see," Twister straightened to demonstrate his well being, "There's no need to start anything with Lars. Besides, he gave me such a whomping last night; I don't doubt he'll lay off for a bit. He's not a sadist." Reggie raised a skeptical eyebrow. "He's not home, anyways," Twister threw in. She relaxed, blushingly realizing the close quarters she was sharing with Twister. She could hear his breathing, sharp and soft. She looked up, met his eyes blushingly.

"You can let go now," she whispered softly.

"Oh, sorry," he mumbled, letting his hands fall to his sides. They were quiet again. It was a good time, Twister realized, to talk about the kiss. "Reggie," he started. They were startled by the sputter of an engine, turning to see a large movers' truck pull in on their cozy cul-de-sac. A fancy Mercedes Benz followed, turning into the driveway of the house next to Twister's, while the truck sidled along the curb. Twister stared in confusion. He hadn't even recalled that house being for sale.

The door of the car swung open, and an overdressed woman stepped out, looking around with a sour glare. A balding man in a well-pressed suit, most likely her husband, was struggling to pull himself from the driver's seat.

"_This_ is Ocean Shores?" the woman puttered, "How detestable."

"Hey…" Twister found himself shouting in anger, but Reggie had placed a placating hand on his arm. A young man was climbing out of the backseat of the car. He looked like maybe he was a senior, well dressed. He was a blonde haired pretty boy, with a sophisticated smile, and a nice build. He gave the impression that he was not unfamiliar with athletics. Or women, Twister thought miserably, glancing to Reggie who was openly staring.

"I saw a beach on the way, mother," the young man spoke up, "I wanted to try surfing on my new board. My trainer says that I'm ready for real waves."

"Great, _shoobies_," Twister muttered, rolling his eyes.

"No," the woman spat, "You are not getting in that dirty ocean. Do you know what is in that water? Trash, from the local dump, sharks, and other disgusting and dangerous sea creatures, and Lord knows what else. There is no way you are getting in that ocean."

"Sweetheart," the balding man pouted, "This is a nice, small city. All the businesses are locally owned, the school is small, the crime rate is low…oh look," he had noticed Reggie and Twister, "Locals. Hello, little children," he called to them, enunciating each word as though he expected the locals to be slow and dimwitted. Twister rolled his eyes again, but Reggie tugged his arm.

"Let's be nice, Twist, and just go say 'hi' real quick to them," Reggie hissed, pulling him forward, "Hello. You guys must be new." Pretty boy perked up when he saw Reggie, smiling disarmingly, and extending a hand to her.

"Richard," he introduced himself, "But my friends call me Ricky." Twister took the hand before Reggie could, gripping it tightly and shaking it roughly.

"Twister. I'll be your new neighbor," he said stiffly, "And this is _my_ friend, Reggie."

"Twister?" Ricky began snidely, ripping his hand from Twister's iron grip and attempting to shrug off the throbbing, "An amusing name. I'm sure your parents felt it suited you."

"It's not really my name, man," Twister started, thinking that maybe this young man was slower to catch on then him, but fell short. Ricky was grinning almost mockingly indicating the joke, "Oh…"

"We're the Stewards," the balding man spoke up, nodding politely.

"Unfortunately, my husband was transferred to this unpleasant little hovel…" the woman started, as her husband snaked an arm over her shoulders.

"Come now, Beverly, the movers need direction," he told her, giving her a nudge towards the house. She swayed slightly as she walked, searching her purse for a cigarette and lighter, oblivious as her husband turned back to the kids, "I apologize. She's used to more upper scale lifestyles. We were recently living in New York, after returning to the states from Paris…ah, but I should leave you children to chat." He patted his son's shoulder heartily, "I'm sure you'll all become fast friends." He disappeared up the walkway to the house after his wife. Ricky turned his winning smile back to Reggie, and she absently pushed her hair behind her ears.

"So…Paris," she chuckled, "That must have been nice."

"It was dreary, really," Ricky shrugged, "After seeing all the sights, it was quite boring. My mother enjoyed the shopping. I, however, was particularly fond of living in Tahiti. The beaches were astounding. My mother wouldn't allow me to attempt surfing until I'd had proper training. Of course, the beaches in Paris were beautiful as well, but they were all nude."

"Nude?" Twister repeated, stunned, "Who took the beaches' clothes?" Ricky frowned at Twister, staring blankly, though Reggie was smiling and shaking her head.

"He's joking, right?" Ricky burst into laughter, explaining, "The people were without clothes."

"Oh," Twister shrugged, "Who took _their_ clothes?" Of course, Ricky only found this funnier. Twister looked to the ground, knowing enough not to laugh, as he was, after all, what was so funny. Reggie simply rolled her eyes, grabbing Twister's shirt and pulling him away.

"Let's go, Twist," she snarled, and he was all too happy to oblige. Ricky abruptly stopped laughing, sensing the hostility in the young woman's voice.

"Oh, come on, I didn't mean any harm," Ricky apologized, stepping in front of the retreating friends, "I only thought he was joking. No hard feelings," he all but shoved his hand into Twister's chest, unknowingly aggravating a particularly painful bruise, causing a great deal of wincing and a wounded groan. Of course, Ricky misinterpreted this, "I'm sorry. I guess I don't know my own strength," he looked to Reggie, "I didn't think he'd be so weak, though I suppose he is a little on the scrawny side."

"You okay, Twist?" Reggie asked, concern more than evident in her voice and softened features, as she lightly touched the pained boy's forearm, disregarding Ricky altogether.

"I'm fine," Twister mumbled, then, turning a sneer on Ricky, "Yeah, we're cool, _bro_." He pushed his way past, walking with frustrated steps up to his house. He hated looking so lame in front of Reggie, especially with this pretty boy around, "I'm going skating at the Pier, Reg, tell Otto when he finally wakes up." Otto Rocket, Reggie's little brother, and Twister's best friend was the largest reason the kiss was to be forgotten. There was no telling the reaction Otto would have if he were to find out about the kiss, let alone the toll it would take on the close relationship between the siblings.

"Twister?" Reggie started. He paused, turned slightly and smiled brightly, reassuringly, before continuing up towards his garage to grab his gear. She narrowed her eyes at Ricky. He was attractive, to say the least, but he wasn't quickly gaining favor with Ocean Shores favorite Rocket Girl.

"Did I offend him?"

"It was nice to meet you, _Richard_, but I have a friend to go see. And I don't doubt you have unpacking to do," Reggie said, and it took a great deal of willpower to hide the snarl edging its way across her tongue. She spun on her heel and continued across the street, hearing Ricky give a pathetic 'good-bye' and disappear into his new house. She was headed for Sam Dullard's home, one of her best friends, who helped her put together a magazine called the Zine. . It was where'd she'd been heading that morning before she saw Twister. Sherry had called last night with what she proclaimed to be the most awesome idea for a Zine article, and requested Reggie and Sam's audience.

Subconsciously Reggie's fingers came to trail along her lips. Sherry, and another friend, Trish, had been the reason behind that kiss Twister had given her. It had all stemmed from Sherry getting _the_ kiss, and kindly pointing out that Reggie had yet to receive it. Reggie smiled slightly. It had been Otto who concocted some silly plan to get a guy to give Reggie the kiss. He'd dragged Sam and Twister into the ridiculous plot, and they'd chosen Sam to be the one to give Reggie _the_ kiss. In the end, however, it had been Twister. So, as far as Reggie could figure, the kiss was nothing more to Twister than a ploy to cheer her up. That was just the way the boy worked. He cared deeply for his friends, and seeing them unhappy was the last thing he wanted. Just one of his many charming attributes.

It still made Reggie lightheaded, simply thinking about the kiss. She wasn't sure what she wanted the kiss to have been. For the longest of time there had only been three young men in her life. Her brother Otto, of course, Sam, and then, yes, Twister. They'd been her constants, the ones always by her side no matter what. "The boys" she loved dearly, despite how insane they tended to drive her. She'd thought about them on individual levels before. Pondered what each of them meant to her.

Otto was her brother, but that's not where he ended in her life. He was her lifelong best friend, her secret keeper; her strong shoulder to cry on, and one of the many loves of her life. They fought bitterly, but never laughed harder with anyone else. He got on her nerves, and showed an utter lack of respect for her authority, and protected her fiercely as she did him.

Sam was an irreplaceable companion. He was intelligent, and well versed in computer technology. Reggie could talk about things with Sam that would go completely over Otto and Twister's heads. He reminded her of the things she loved that weren't sports oriented. He let her live two sides of her life. He was her proverbial rock. Solid and reasonable, one of the strongest supports she had.

Now Twister was a different story. Reggie had never been able to place where Twister fit in her world; what he _really_ meant to her. She'd known him for as long as she could remember, and she'd come to decide that maybe he was like a brother to her. But then that simple kiss had erased all of that. People don't feel the way Reggie felt after kissing their brother. Unless they were sick in the mind, which Reggie was pretty certain she wasn't.

"Hey, Reg," Sherry called, sitting on the front porch of the Dullard house next to Sam, "What took you so long. You're just right across the street."

"I…um…I stopped to talk with Twist and his new neighbors. Did you know someone bought that old house?"

"No," Sam answered, "What's Twister up to?"

"He went skating at the Pier," Reggie leaned back shoving her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, "Man, his new neighbors are serious tools."

"I think I saw them the other day, coming by the house," Sherry spoke up, "The old man, and his son, the totally hot blonde?"

"Yeah, that's them," Reggie sighed, "Pops is cool, but the mom is a little on the witch side, and Richard is…from what I can tell, all show." She shifted slightly, choosing to leave out his unnecessarily harsh treatment of Twister. Maybe she'd read too much into Ricky's actions. From the way he'd spoken, it sounded as though he'd moved often, never being able to set down roots and make friends. He probably just didn't know what was appropriate behavior, though one would assume a monkey could figure out that how he was acting was exceptionally rude. She sighed. Twister wasn't exactly a prime example of politeness himself.

"Well, he can show it all whenever he wants, as far as I'm concerned," Sherry grinned and Sam rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

"You called us here for…?" he pressed. Sherry clapped her hands together enthusiastically; her eyes alight with excitement.

"It seems it's perfect timing, what with Richard's appearance," she beamed, "Have I got a Zine project for you guys…"

"Just give it to us," Reggie groaned. If Sherry wanted that Richard involved, something told Reggie she wasn't going to like this idea much.

"How's this catch you? The Top 100 Hotties of Ocean Shores," Sherry announced, grinning broadly and expectantly to her friends. They stared blinking stunned at her.

"Um…Sammy, do you want to handle this?" Reggie said, clearing her throat.

"Well…explain it to us," Sam encouraged and Reggie narrowed her eyes at him.

"_Sammy_," she hissed, but Sherry just continued.

"I thought you could do an article kind of like all those teeny bopper rags do. You know, take all the eligible cuties here in Ocean Shores and do a poll with all the girls. You could take all the guys pictures and count them down all the way to whoever was voted number one in the Zine," Sherry jumped to her feet in her enthusiasm, "We'll take the guys at Ocean Shores High, and maybe the community college. We'll put their names and a few bits of information about them. It'll be totally awesome."

"Sherry, since when is the Zine some kind of lame teeny bopper rag?" Reggie demanded, skeptical of this new idea.

"Oh, come on Reg," Sherry pleaded, "I'll do the polls, I'll get the pictures of the guys, I'll do all the work…"

"Me and Reggie need a minute to talk this over," Sam excused them, before leading Reggie to the driveway where Sherry wouldn't be able to hear.

"I don't want to do it," Reggie bluntly stated.

"Come on, Reg," Sam begged, "A whole issue of the Zine that you don't have to do anything for. She's serious about doing all the work, you know. She's already got the names of all the guys taken down, and pictures for most of them, plus she's got this really efficient plan for doing the poll. It'll boost readers, too. Guys will want to see where they ranked, girls will want to see the guys."

"You just want to see where you rank," Reggie commented, arms crossed in front of her chest.

"Well, I am a guy of Ocean Shores," Sam chuckled nervously, "So I suppose I would be in the poll…heh…heh…" Reggie rolled her eyes.

"But think how some guys will feel, if they don't rank as high, or get outranked by some other guy, or don't even make it to the top 100? How would you feel? And what about between friends? What if you were outranked by Otto? Wouldn't you feel some kind of bitter resentment? Or worse, like…I don't know…less?" Sam sighed.

"Reggie, there's not a doubt in my mind that Otto would outrank me," he told her, "But it sounds fun. I guess we will have to get the permission of all the guys to put them in the polls; that way they'll understand the consequences. We'll explain it all to them and…come on, Reg." Reggie sighed, unfolding her arms and looking out to the street. She saw Twister skateboarding by. He smiled slightly at her, waving as he passed. She blushed, her hand coming up slightly in a returned gesture of acknowledgement. "Reggie?" Sam pressed, "I need an answer."

"Huh? Yeah, sure," she mumbled, "Whatever." There was a squeal over by the side of the house, and both Reggie and Sam turned in shock to find Sherry eavesdropping. She grinned sheepishly at them.

"I can do it?" she asked meekly. Sam nodded, giving her thumbs up. Reggie slapped her forehead in exasperation.

"What did I just agree to?" she muttered under her breath, then with a haggard sigh, "And, more importantly, what's wrong with me?" She'd lost all comprehension when she saw Twister. Her heart was pounding madly in her chest, almost as though it was trying to escape, and she was having a little difficulty getting her lungs to work properly. Breathe in, breathe out, she silently directed herself. Maybe she _was_ sick in the mind.

-0-0-

Sherry went to work on the poll as soon as she'd left the Dullard house, enlisting the help of Trish. For days she worked feverishly, getting the permission of every boy, taking pictures, and then, polling everyone. Reggie had to admit, it was kind of fun being able to relax while someone else did all the article work. Almost a mini-vacation. She still had to write a few articles as filler, and Sam designed the layout, but it wasn't as much work as it would have been.

It was an early Saturday morning. Reggie watched as her brother, Otto, skated around, grinding the sidewalk and simply keeping himself busy. Sam sat next to Reggie on the curb, strapping his roller blades on and clucking appraisal of Otto's moves. They were waiting on Twister.

"Man, what is taking him so long?" Otto demanded, coming to a stop and popping the board into his hand, "We were supposed to be at Madtown half an hour ago!"

"Chill, Otto," Reggie snapped impatiently. Every five minutes he'd go into the same whine. She sighed, rolling her eyes and skating towards the Rodriguez house, "I'm gonna find out where he is." She pounded on the house's front door, and stood back. It wasn't a long time before the door swung open. Lars leered out, leaning against the frame, and glowering down his nose at Reggie. He'd gotten taller, bulkier, tanner, and grislier. A smug grin worked its way along his lips.

"How's it going, Rocket girl?" he greeted, "If you're looking for little Maurice, he's a bit preoccupied right now, but I am more than free to spend time with you."

"Is that Reggie?" a voice called in the background, before a lanky young woman pushed her way past Lars and flung her arms around the shocked Reggie.

"Cleo?" Reggie gasped, returning the embrace, "What are you doing here? Twister didn't mention you were coming!" They broke apart, and Cleo grinned at Reggie.

"Yeah, I know. He didn't know," Cleo shrugged, "It was a surprise visit. You can forgive him."

"Oh, okay," Reggie chuckled, "Speaking of which, where is Twist? He was supposed to meet us, we were going to Madtown."

"Cool," Cleo conceded, and then turned a glower at Lars, "_Somebody_ was supposed to be helping him prep a place for me to sleep tonight." There was a crash in the background.

"I'm okay," Twister's muffled voice called from somewhere in the house. Lars broke into a fit of laughter.

"Oh, this is hilarious! He dropped the cot on his head," Lars gasped between bouts of sniggers, "Don't worry, _Maurice_, at least it didn't land on anything important!" Reggie peeked in, her concern evident while Cleo slapped Lars's arm.

"Quit teasing him," she scolded.

"Do you need any help?" Reggie called, and Twister looked up in shock, turning several shades redder than a normal blush when he saw her.

"No," he stammered, "I'm fine. See…I can handle it…" he attempted to lift the metal frame of the cot again, nearly stumbling and dropping it once more. It wasn't so much that it was heavy, more so, that it was too large for one person to move by their lonesome. Because of this, Twister was making a clumsy path towards the den. Lars broke into laughter again.

"Go help your brother," Reggie commanded, glowering up at Lars with a reproving eye. He grinned down at her slyly.

"I will…if you give me a kiss." The cot was dropped again.

"_Ow_!" Twister yelped from the other room, "I can handle it, Reg," he moaned, sounding as though he were in a great deal of pain, "I don't need his help!"

"Aw, come on Regina," Lars went on, coyly, just loud enough for his brother to hear, "Just a quick peck on the cheek, and you and little Maurice can join your dork brother at Madtown."

"Hey Lars," Otto's voice snarled, and Reggie glanced over her shoulder. Her brother stood with his arms crossed over his chest, sneering up at the taller Rodriguez boy with a great deal of loath. Sam was cowering somewhat behind him, "It may have worked for the frog, but I highly doubt a kiss will turn _you_ into a prince." He shoved his way past Lars, pausing to smile awkwardly at Cleo and give a stuttered 'hi', before heading into the den. "You okay, bro?"

"Hey, Otto," Twister grinned sheepishly, "I would have been sooner, except I couldn't find the cot. It was hiding in the attic."

"Where's this thing supposed to go, anyhow?" Otto asked, glancing around the den, while lifting the frame off of Twister. Lars rolled his eyes in annoyance, before pushing his way out the door and heading towards the curb where his car was parked. Between the three boys, though Sam wasn't much help, they moved the cot and had it set up in no time. They invited Cleo to join them at Madtown, and of course, she obliged, and they headed to the popular skate park.

Cleo sat with Reggie on the park bench for a time, between skating, and they watched the boys tear up the place with skilled maneuvers.

"Sam's gotten better," Cleo noted, "But he's still behind Otto and, _I guess_, Maurice."

"Yeah," Reggie agreed, before turning to face her friend, "So, how long are you staying for?"

"Three weeks," Cleo answered.

"Don't you have school?"

"Alright, I have to tell you something, but you can't let it slip to the others," Cleo whispered, turning on Reggie with wide eyes and an excited grin.

"What? What's happening?"

"My parents are thinking of sending me here to attend Ocean Shores High for my last year of school. Back home, things have gotten way out of control in the schools. We have metal detectors, police at every door, things like that. It's way whack, like you have no idea," Cleo squealed quietly, "The reason I'm out here is because I got suspended for fighting. It was such a bogus rap too, I didn't even start the fight, though I sure as hell finished it."

"Whoa, wait," Reggie cried, "You're…what? You're coming to school here?" Cleo nodded exuberantly. "That is _so _awesome! Why can't I tell the guys?"

"Because nothings been settled, yet. If it goes through, I'll be living with Aunt Sandy and Uncle Raul. I'll be sleeping in Lars room, since he'll be away for college, but because I'll be moving in before Lars leaves…he'll have to bunk with Maurice, while I set up the room for me. We don't want them swaying the decision."

"Twist is _not_ gonna be happy about that," Reggie said knowingly, glancing over to boy. He chose that moment to look at the park bench, noticed Reggie was watching him, and wiped out in the middle of his heel flip. His board rolled away, as he groaned, laying on his backside staring up at the sky. Another boarder pulled up to him, and Otto's face filled his vision.

"Nice beef, man," Otto said, extending a hand. Twister accepted the help, rubbing his lower back gingerly.

"Man, that was painful," Twister stated, making his way to his board limping.

"You okay, Twist?" Reggie called, she'd jumped to her feet when he fell, but was now sitting back down bashfully. She knew she shouldn't have reacted that way, seeing as how it wasn't the first time he'd ever fallen, and he was wearing all the proper safety pads and equipment. It had simply shocked her.

"Yeah," Twister replied, having turned a noticeable pink, knowing that Reggie had seen him screw up such a simple move. He looked to Otto, saying, "I think I'm gonna go get a soda, and sit down for awhile."

"Chat with the girls, huh?" Otto teased, "Whatever, man, I'll see you on the half-pipe, when you grow your backbone, again." He skated off, leaving Twister shaking his head and making his way over to the vending machines.

"Chill out, Reg," Cleo laughed, "You're on edge, girl. Don't tell me you're worried about Maurice." Reggie chuckled nervously, ringing her hands in her lap.

"No, of course not. I'm just a little jumpy," Reggie explained. Cleo raised an eyebrow skeptically, but said nothing more on the subject. At the entrance of the skate park, Reggie saw Sherry making her way over to the girls. She was smiling broadly, pausing to give her hellos to Sam and Otto racing around the park.

"Hi," she greeted, and then looking Cleo over, "Do I know you?"

"No. I'm Cleo, Maurice's cousin."

"Sherry. Reggie's friend."

"What are you doing here, Sherry?" Reggie spoke up, "Aren't you working on that poll?"

"Yeah…hey, Cleo, did you maybe want to vote?" Sherry said. Cleo straightened slightly, intrigued.

"Vote for what?"

"Sherry's doing an article for the Zine," Reggie explained, "She's doing a poll on the Top 100 hottest guys of Ocean Shores, something like that."

"Sounds cool," Cleo conceded, "Sure, I'll vote. Who are my choices?"

"Great," Sherry squealed, "You have to come vote too, Reg."

"What? I don't think that would be fair…I mean, I'm the editor of the magazine…" Reggie stammered, shaking her head enthusiastically. She flushed when Twister made his way over, a soda in hand.

"Hey, Sherry," he greeted, "What are you doing here?"

"Working on my poll."

"Oh, cool. Where do I rank so far?" Twister grinned.

"I don't know, yet," Sherry answered, "I haven't tallied the scores. After everyone's voted, that's when I'll add them up. You'll know when the next issue of the Zine comes out. Help me convince Reg that she needs to vote." Twister looked down to his soda, pink in the cheeks.

"Um…she shouldn't have to vote if she doesn't want to," Twister mumbled. He sank onto the park bench next to Cleo, opening the soda. Sherry promptly placed her hands on her hips, frowning. It didn't matter to him. He could probably predict whom Reggie would vote for; undoubtedly, Trent, or maybe even that Ricky guy.

"Reggie," Sherry pressed on, "_Because_ you're the editor of the Zine is the very reason you should vote. What kind of impression does that give your readers? That you don't support this issue?"

"That I'm not boy crazy," Reggie retorted, then, seeing the hurt look cross over Sherry's face, "I mean…jeez…alright, Sherry, I'll vote."

"Thank you," Sherry exclaimed, "Let's go, ladies, to the voting booth. Yours are the last votes, and then the polls are closed. I'm tallying the votes tonight, and I will have everything set and ready for tomorrow. See you later, Twister."

"Um…bye?" Twister watched as the girls left the park, a sinking feeling in his gut. What did it matter to him who Reggie voted for, anyways? Why should he care where he ranked? Otto, and Trent, and probably Ricky too, would outrank him for certain. Not to mention, there were so many other better looking guys out there in Ocean Shores.

* * *

END A/N: Alright...so...uh....I can't really remember the episode that had Cleo in it, though I did watch it. I'm mostly going of how other fanfiction writer characterize her...

Oh, and a note on Twister's character for elentariangel. First of all, as guys get older, they don't mature, they just grow. A good example of this, is my father, who decided it would be fun to throw his new hackie (sp?)sack at me while I was on the computer, and then to giggle uproariously. Stupid jerk. Actually, most of Twister's personality in thes story was more acting on his part, if you read back over the first chapter knowing how it ends, you can see this (or maybe I'm crazy). I think Twister would, yes, mature, but I don't think he'd lose that naivity unless something incredibly drastic and tragic occured, forcing him to leave his air headedness behind. I don't think it's so much that he is stupid, or immature, more so, that he's kind of...hm...I don't know how to describe it. So oh well.

Please review. See how review persuaded me to continue with this? Despite the fact that I should be working on the next chapter of my story Killing the Daisies (which I am...I swear...see...it's open on my computer...hehe...) _**REVIEW**_! Reviews, in my opinion, are fun to write. So, go forth, and write a fun little review.

That's my spiel for the day. Please excuse any grammatical and typing errors you may have come across.

Thank you for reading.

Next chapter: Who ranked number one in the Zine mag? Will Twister and Reggie ever have a chance to chat about the kiss? How does everyone find out about Twister being the mysterious kisser? Will Ricky ever get knocked off his pompous high-horse? I could go on forever like this, but I choose not to.

ROCK ON!


	3. Complicating A Simple Kiss pt2

A/N: Coming along nicely...yes...

I have to make a slight anouncement: The end of the school semester is coming (I've only a week or so left of classes) which means I have finals to study for, as well as papers to work on. Updates for this story, and my various others, may take time. Don't worry, though, I will get the next chapters up asap.

Thanks to the reviewers, **goofymonkeychild** (whom I've missed), **bob** (you are totally deserving of the compliment, and I'm extremely flattered that you like my story so and hope you continue to review each chapter), **cAptIAN jAck And uMm bOb** (whose s/n is extremely hard to type...you both are more than accepted on my review board), **CSIforensicnut09**(twistedRrocketluv...I'm just a humble writer), **RavenForever** (what did you do to get banned from the computer? ANd YAY! I have a stalker...hun...should I be rejoicing?), **SteffieWitter96** (I am so happy you came to read this fic, because it is actually because of you that I wrote it. I found the Rocket Power section through your bio, not to mention, an awesome R/T fic. You're the reason this story is here, EVERYONE WHO LOVES THIS FIC, SAY IT WITH ME NOW, THANK YOU STEFFIEWITTER96), **VUWildCat** (read on to find out), **RelaxingPikachu** (yours is the awesome fic that I found through SteffieWitter96, which I should probably go review...because I loved your story...and it's also because of your ficthat I incorporated Spanish in this chapter, and will in future chaps), **Chimaira009** (HI!), **jovhyz** (hope you approved of their rankings.)

Wow. Long list. Yeah, I used a little Spanish in this story, and I may provide translations at the bottom if I remember...some of them are given...(well, you can figure them out from the context), others do need translation (maybe I'll translate the ones that would ruin the story if you didn't know what they meant...). First of all, I'm lazy and I don't speak Spanish fluently, so, yes, I cheated (gasp) and used an online translator (from the Dictionary dot com's site!) So any Spanish speakers out there, I apologize ahead of time for the horrid butcherment of your beautiful language. Second of all, Twister, and his brother, both switch from Spanish to English, and back again, when talkingmuch like second-generation Latin immigrant kids tend to do. But I'm babbling...and you didn't come to read this...you came to read that down there....so...

ENJOY!

* * *

Complicating A Simple Kiss 

Reggie stood at her locker, rummaging for her books. She wasn't sure if she'd need her text for World Lit, but was certain that she'd need her Statistics book. She shared Government class with Sam, so she'd have to ask him later if they'd need their books for that class. She was, needless to say, surprised when the blonde young man slinked up beside her. Ricky had started at the High School almost two days before, and his appearance had been well received amongst the female population. He was constantly surrounded by young girls vying for his attention.

"What do you want?" Reggie demanded, her first encounter with Ricky still fresh in her mind. She hadn't spoken to him since, even though they shared a math class.

"I'm afraid we've gotten off on the wrong foot," Ricky started, and Reggie rolled her eyes, "I really have to apologize for my behavior that morning."

"You _should_ be apologizing to Twister," Reggie snapped, "Remember, the guy you ridiculed for no good reason?"

"I have apologized to him. I honestly don't think he likes me, though, even as he claims he's accepted my apologies," Ricky told her, "I'm really sorry, I am. I just…my parents move me around so often…and this last move…my father assures us this is the last one, but I don't know what to trust. Maybe I was feeling a little upset that day, but that's no excuse to take it out on Typhoon."

"Twister."

"Um…yes…that's right, Twister, I hardly remember that day, it was such a blur…though I know, I could never forget you," Ricky frowned at the tile, glancing up slightly. Reggie was looking away down the quickly emptying hall, a smile slowly tugging at her lips. His charm was working. It always did.

"Alright," she sighed, "I accept your apology. I know moving can be rough and it's hard to make new friends when you're totally bummed about the friends you left behind. Come on, we've got class." Ricky smiled broadly, following her down the hall, even placing a hand in the small of her back and offering to carry her books. He glanced Twister down the hallway staring at them a little unhappily and waved almost triumphantly to him. Twister just scowled, shaking his head and entering his class.

-0-0-

The Pier was abuzz when the latest issue of Reggie's Zine came out. All the guys wanted to know where they'd ranked, and of course, all the girls wanted the pictures of the hot guys. Sherry had made the project so top secret, even Reggie wasn't certain who had ranked number one. It had her a little nervous. She watched as Sam tipped open the latest issue while they sat in the Shore Shack waiting for Otto and Twister. A smile slid across his lips.

"I ranked twenty-eight," he cried out excitedly, "I ranked twenty-eight! I didn't even think I would rank, but I'm in the twenties! That is _so_ awesome!"

"Very cool, little bruddah," Tito said from behind the counter. The large Hawaiian man was busy grilling burgers. The Shore Shack was exceptionally busy that afternoon, a very rare event as it wasn't tourist season. They were all locals, excitedly chatting about the Zine article.

"I have to admit, Sammy, you were right," Reggie commented, "This poll did boost the readers. I hope it stays like this without them expecting lame articles all the time."

"Uh oh," Sam gasped, gaining a curious look from Reggie and Tito, "This isn't good."

"What's wrong?" Reggie asked, as Raymundo entered from the back, carrying boxes of supplies. Sam lowered his head, as he showed the pages he was looking at to Reggie. For a moment, she stared blankly, her lips parted slightly, an almost blush creeping across her face. Then, she was grasped with the reality of the situation. "_No_ way," she gasped, "Otto cannot see this."

"Why? What's wrong?" Raymundo asked from behind the counter.

"He is totally gonna flip," Reggie cried, shoving the magazine under her dad's nose.

"Oh no," Raymundo mumbled, "Oh no…oh no…I knew this ranking thing was a bad idea when you told me about it…I knew Otto shouldn't have entered…"

"Come on guys, chill out," Sam said, "Otto's cool. There's no way he'd go aggro over something like this."

"Who's going aggro?" The four companions turned their heads abruptly, eyes wide with shock. Otto was making his way into the Shack, Twister following behind. They had chained their bikes up at the side of the restaurant, and were busy removing their helmets.

"Hey, is that the issue?" Otto asked, "Let me see. I mean, I know I'm number one, but I just want to make sure Sherry put in the good picture of me."

"Oh, she did," Reggie assured him, grabbing the magazine and holding it behind her back, "There's no need to look." Otto raised an eyebrow as a group of girls passed by.

"Hi, Twister," they greeted. He smiled at them slightly, confused, and they burst into giggles.

"Let me see the article, Reg," Otto futilely commanded, moving to grab the magazine. Reggie passed it off to Sam, who held it away.

"Give me the mag, Squid," Otto snapped, as Twister took a seat at the table stealing Sam's untouched shake and a few of his fries. He wasn't too worried about the poll. He didn't really care. He knew he couldn't of ranked high, he'd never been very popular with the girls, not that he ever tried to be. There was a struggle, and Ray shouted a few threats their direction, somewhere along the lines of 'take the fighting outside, or your grounded Otto and you're both bussing tables for three weeks!' Otto slumped, frustrated by the game of keep away, when Twister spoke up.

"There's one right here," leaning back in his chair and lifting a magazine off of the table behind him. Before Twister could even open it, and despite the protests from Reggie and Sam, Otto snatched it away; flipping quickly through to the back where the ranked number one "Hottest Guy in Ocean Shores" was pictured.

"No _fucking_ way!" Otto blurted out.

"Watch your language, young man," Ray spat from over the counter, "That's it, Otto, three weeks bussing tables. Your butt better be in here…"

"But _dad_…" Otto cried, "Twister outranked me!" Twister fell, his chair clattering to the ground.

"I _what_?"

"I mean, it's _ridiculous_," Otto went on, "I can see Trent outranking me, _maybe_, and _possibly_ that new guy Ricky, if they're having a good day! But _Twister_?"

"Jeez, Otto, full of yourself, much?" Reggie sneered, "Maybe you think that, but obviously the majority of girls here in Ocean Shores thought differently…"

"How could he do this to me, though? There's no way…"

"Don't feel bad, Otto," Sam chuckled nervously, "Twister outranked everybody."

"I _WHAT_?" Twister was on his feet in an instant, grabbing the magazine from Otto and staring in disbelief at it, his voice started out a small whisper, a mutter under his breath, "Oh, mi dios…_no way_! Esto es malo. Otto es enojado! ¡_Lars_ va a ser tan enojado! Lars va a _batirme_…oh… ¿Por qué no podría ser lame-o como Squid, alineado en viente algo? ¿Quién habría podido votar posiblemente por mi? ¿Reggie votó quizá por mi?" then his voice broke into a slight desperate shout, "¡No! ¡Malos pensamientos! ¡Mal Twister! ¡Esto es malo, esto es todo el _muy_ malo!" he paused, his friends staring blankly at him. They'd never, _ever_ heard him speak in Spanish, except when he was calling his mother to check in, and even then he did it in a quiet whisper. He smirked somewhat, shrugging, looking a little dazed, "Though, es clase de cool."

"What did he just say?" Tito asked, staring wide-eyed at the boy obviously lost in thought.

"Don't look at me," Sam said, "I may have been studying Spanish for four years, but he goes _way_ too fast…" Twister blushed, realizing everyone, including all of the Shore Shack's customers, was staring at him. He hadn't realized he'd ranted aloud. He threw the magazine down to the table, a bit sheepishly.

"Uh…eh…it's just a lame rating game," Twister said, chewing the inside of his cheek until blood spilled onto his tongue.

"Twister speaks Spanish? Since when can Twister speak Spanish?" Raymundo asked.

"Me? Speak Spanish…hehe…I don't know what you mean," Twister chuckled a little sheepishly. He didn't like speaking Spanish around anyone. It was bad enough he had the accent, while not as thick as his parents, still fairly pronounced. He turned to Otto, "You're not mad at me, are you?"

"Uh…no," Otto finally managed, blinking. He sometimes forgot his air headed best friend was bilingual, "It's just a stupid rating game, like you said. Totally lame. Sherry must have counted wrong, or maybe everyone didn't have a chance to get their votes in." There was a hitch in Otto's voice that suggested maybe he was a little upset.

"Yeah, because there's no way I'm the hottest guy in Ocean Shores," Twister concurred.

"Well, actually, Sherry was pretty thorough when…" Sam started, but Reggie slapped his arm and shook her head. There was no reason to provoke the situation.

The truth was, while the gang could never imagine the awkward boy they knew in childhood ranking number one in such a poll, Twister had, in fact, changed. He had a slightly shy side, and he wasn't very apt when it came to chatting with girls, usually blushing and stuttering when he tried to speak. Which gave him a cute disposition, but cute really didn't win the competition. Maybe it was that he'd gotten taller, had always been lean, but was now lined with more muscles rather than baby fat. He hadn't bulked up, like his brother, rather maintaining an almost graceful body shape. His hair had bleached from long hours in the sun, now a rather light red color, and his freckles were just noticeable enough against his deep-set tan. To Reggie, and evidently most of the girls in Ocean Shores, it was obvious why he'd placed number one.

"I guess I can handle being number two," Otto sighed.

"Actually Otto…" Sam mumbled, with an uneasy squeak, "Ricky was number two." Otto narrowed his eyes at Sam.

"Then _where_ did I rank?" he demanded.

"Three."

"I'm _third_!" Otto cried disgustedly, "I ranked _third_? How could _I_, Otto Rocket, rank _third_?"

"Uh…chill, Otto-man," Twister chuckled nervously, "It's just a lame poll, right?" Otto turned to face him, seething with anger.

"Easy for _you_ to say, _you're_ number one!" Otto spat, "What's with girls anyways? They think _Twister_ is better looking than _me_? And than this Ricky guy?" Twister pouted slightly, poking at the fries in front of him dejectedly. Reggie placed her hands on her hips, readying a scolding for her younger brash brother, when Ricky chose that moment to walk in, one of the Zines in his hands.

"Hi," he greeted, "I see I'm not the only one finding out where I placed. I guess you lucked out, huh, Otto?" Otto turned a glower on him.

"How do you figure that?" he growled.

"Well, obviously, your best friend's a babe magnet. It would seem you need him to get the chicks," Ricky replied, then turning his attention to Twister, "Tsunami…"

"Twister," the gang corrected in varying degrees of annoyance.

"Yes…um…Twister," Ricky mumbled, "Erm…congratulations. You beat me." Otto slumped, glowering up at Ricky, and Reggie crossed her arms, looking down expectantly at the redheaded boy.

"Whatever, man," Twister sneered, "It's just a lame-o poll, anyways, it don't mean nothing." He slapped his arm over Otto's shoulders, "It's obvious, because there's no way _I_ could have possibly outranked my man, let alone you…"

"Of course," Ricky smirked, "I do see that it's a little farfetched, you being considered 'hotter' than me."

"That's not what I meant…er…" Twister snapped, "I mean, Otto could have outranked you any day…um…"

"That's enough," Reggie rolled her eyes, "Twister, can't you take a little praise? He's congratulating you! Can't you just say 'thank-you', and leave it at that?"

"But Reggie…" Twister cried, "He's thrashing your brother!"

"I was only joking," Ricky said, "Otto is a good guy, he can take a joke." Ricky slapped the younger Rocket's shoulder playfully, receiving a disregarded glare, "I'm trying to be a good sport, but I suppose that's not a welcome personality trait these days…" he frowned, making his way towards the counter.

"I don't like that guy," Twister muttered in a low whisper when Reggie turned abruptly.

"Ricky, why don't you join us," she called, and Twister bolted upright.

"No way, man," he sputtered, "Reg, come _on_, I'm trying to enjoy Sam's fries!"

"Hey!" Sam cried, pulling his food away protectively.

"That's alright, Reggie," Ricky replied, smiling beamingly at her, "I prefer sitting at the bar, anyways."

"Okay, if you change your mind," Reggie said, a blush more than obvious across her cheeks. She sat down as Tito brought food over for Twister and Otto. Immediately Sam reached his hand into Twister's fry basket, grabbing a handful and throwing it in his own basket.

"Hey, man, that's stealing," Twister protested. Reggie slapped his arm, "Ow! What was that for?"

"Because you were being a jerk to Ricky, Twist," Reggie spat, "He's trying to be nice, trying to make friends…"

"If that's how he makes friends, I'd hate to see how he goes about making enemies," Twister commented flatly. Reggie slapped him again. "Ow! _Why are you hitting me_? Otto, make your sister stop!"

"Reg, stop hitting him," Otto muttered unenthusiastically, flipping through the magazine in front of him, "I wonder…" he looked up slyly at Reggie, "If one of these guys is Rocket girl's secret lover." Reggie flushed and Twister's brow furrowed.

"Secret lover?" he repeated, confused and a little fretful. Did Reggie like someone that he wasn't aware of? Or, more importantly, did Reggie have a boyfriend he wasn't aware of? Sam, on the other hand, caught on to the joke immediately, joining in on Otto's devious grin.

"Yeah, undoubtedly he's ranked somewhere in this poll, if he was able to make Reggie swoon like that," Sam laughed, "Now which one could it possibly be…"

"He had to of ranked high, because Reggie is the editor, she could definitely get strings pulled," Otto went on, "And she'd want her little lover boy to be high up on the list. So he'd know she put him there, and they could go make out."

"Will you two cut it out?" Reggie hissed.

"Me too, me too," Twister cried, understanding it was a mockery, and while not knowing all the details not wanting to be left out, "Umm…he must be…um…"

"Twister," Reggie said sternly, and he fell silent.

"Sorry, Reg."

"You said that you would tell me who gave you that kiss," Otto cried, and Twister's eyes went wide, finally realizing what they had been talking about, "You still haven't told me, or Squid, or _anyone_. I want to know!"

"Jeez, Otto, will you give it a rest," Reggie retorted haughtily, "I haven't even talked to the guy…"

"You haven't even talked to the guy since then?" Otto interrupted, "What kind of lame-o jerk kisses a girl, and then doesn't even talk to her! You'd think if he kissed you, something would have happened. Why's he being so secretive? Or why are you being so secretive? Maybe he's already told everyone, maybe he's out there telling everyone now…"

"Maybe it was Lars," Sam interrupted, "He _is_ ranked number five. How he pulled that off…"

"If it was Lars I'll kill him," Otto roared.

"It wasn't Lars," Reggie muttered peevishly.

"You know, this guy's pissing me off," Otto finally muttered, "When I finally find out who it is, I'm gonna ring his neck. What kind of slime ball kisses a guy's sister and doesn't have the courtesy to tell him?" Twister gulped, pushing away his food and slipping from the table. "I'm going to find this guy…with or without your help, Reg…and I'm going to strangle him! He's probably is out there boasting now, ruining your reputation, and here you are protecting his identity…if that's the case, I'll kill him for certain! The ocean will run red!"

"Going overboard, are we Otto?" Reggie said, "What's it to you anyways?"

"I…uh…have things to do…" Twister mumbled quietly, heading for the exit, "I forgot about…my mom, yeah, that's it, my mom wants me to clean out my room. You know how huge a mess it is. Disaster area…that kind of stuff…" Sam, the only one that seemed to notice him, waved bye, while the two siblings continued fighting

"I don't think I'm going overboard…I mean, _sheesh_, if you'd just tell me who it was, I wouldn't have to get so angry," Otto argued.

"It's none of your business…it's over and done with anyhow…"

"Not until I know!"

-0-0-

Lars moved swiftly, silently across the lawn, eyes never leaving his unsuspecting target, Twister, who sat alone on his board staring out in the street. Lars had a bright bruise he'd gained from an early morning scuffle with his younger brother. Their mother had interrupted the fight before Lars could return the favor.

Twister leaned back, his hands pressed against the cement, and he sighed heavily. Lars took that moment as his opportunity to attack, lunging forward and grabbing the younger man in a headlock.

"Well, well, well, qué nos tienen aquí?_ Maurice_, all by your lonesome? Now, how do I repay you for that sucker punch you gave me at breakfast?" Lars sneered.

"Sheesh, Lars, do you mind?" Twister retorted, his voice edged with annoyance, "I'm thinking here! Could you just whomp me already and get it over with, so I could get back to it?" Lars released him, the comment striking as a huge shock.

"Alright, whoa, wait," Lars stammered, "First of all, you're thinking? Second of all, I will whomp you when I'm good and ready to whomp you. And third of all, _you're _thinking?" Twister narrowed his eyes at his older brother, before turning back to the street. Lars rolled his eyes, "Alright…I know I'm going to regret this…but what's wrong?"

"What do you care?"

"Because you're sucking all the fun out of whomping you," Lars muttered, then sighed, as that didn't appear to have any affect on the younger Rodriguez, "Okay, you may not believe this, but you're my brother."

"I'm a little slow to catch on sometimes, Lars, but I'm not that stupid."

"Let me _finish_," Lars spat, "You're my little brother…and sometimes…very rarely…a miniscule amount of times…es cantidad muy pequeño…I…" he winced, taking a deep breath and squeezing his eyes shut, "Care about you," his eyes snapped open, "Hey, that wasn't so bad. I care about you, man."

"You're scaring me, Lars."

"Look," Lars sighed, falling onto the lawn beside his brother, "I'm going away to college next year, right?"

"You don't have to remind me," Twister mumbled, "I've _only_ been looking forward to the day since I was four." Lars shook his head, studying his shoes.

"I don't want to go away to college and have you thinking I hate you, or something lame like that," Lars went on.

"But you _do_ hate me."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you -"

"Will you shut up!" Lars cried and Twister slumped, "I don't hate you, okay? Now, what's wrong?" Twister sighed, tipping his board forward slightly.

"I guess it won't hurt anything telling you," Twister muttered, "Besé a muchacha. Well…not just _alguna _muchacha…Reggie." Lars perked up slightly.

"¿Usted _qué_? Usted besó _Rocket Girl_? Now _that's_ my little bro," Lars cried, slapping his brother's shoulders heartily, "Not only an older chick, but a hot one at that. She's got boobs too, unlike that little girl who was stalking you in eighth grade…what was her name again?"

"Don't remind me of her," Twister moaned, and then grinning slightly, "You really think she's hot? You aren't mad at me?"

"Hell yeah, she's hot. Why would I be mad at you? Okay, so you snaked a hot chick, I suppose I should let you have one every now and then," Lars laughed, his arm slung proudly about his younger brother's shoulders, "My baby bro, Casanova himself…hun…"

"I just…I thought you liked her," Twister mumbled.

"Huh? Oh, you mean…ha! I was just messin' with 'ya, man. I was only teasing, 'cause I knew you had a thing for her." Twister paled.

"If _you_ know I have a thing for her…than…"

"Chill, bro," Lars told him, "No one else knows, far as I can figure. Others don't really have the privilege of living with you…can't hear you talking in your sleep," he grinned devilishly, and saying in a mock high-pitched squeal, "Oh Reggie…usted es tan bonita…voluntad que usted se besa con mí? Reggie, te amo…"

"I do not!" Twister cried out in shock, "Shut up, _Lars_!"

"Alright…alright…así pues, usted besó Reggie. ¿Cuál es el problema?"

"¿Qué usted piensa el problema es?" Twister muttered unhappily, "It's Otto."

"Rocket dork? What's he got to do with anything?"

"¡Si él descubre besé Reggie que él me matará!" Twister moaned, "Y peor, our friendship will be over…" Lars got an odd smile and Twister turned a wary eye on him, "You wouldn't…" Lars looked to be considering things, then frowned, slumping.

"Okay…fine…I won't," he sighed, then, he straightened, "Alright, here's my advice. This is a hot girl who has no qualms about kissing you…I say, milk it for all its worth, and do it behind Rocket dork's back." Twister glowered at him.

"Lars, she's my friend! _He's_ my friend! How could you suggest I do that? What kind of advice is…"

"Okay, okay, sheesh, lay off, will 'ya…I'm new at this brotherly advice thing, jeez," Lars exhaled heavily, leaning back to stare up at the sky, "Okay…you like this girl, right?"

"Con todo mi corazón…" Twister mumbled miserably.

"But you wouldn't want to do anything to ruin your friendship with Rocket dork, right?"

"Nunca." Lars sighed, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

"I honestly can say, I have never been in this kind of situation," he conceded, "But I guess…as much as I loath having to say this…no matter how much you like the girl…oh man…you should never let it get in the way of a friendship, especially one that's lasted as long as yours and that shrimp's…" Lars pulled himself up, "Usted necesita cualquier dice a Otto qué usted hizo o se olvida sobre qué sucedió, así como sus emociones para Regina. You're in a lose-lose situation, mi hermanito."

"I never thought I'd be saying this…thanks, Lars. But I can't tell Otto…he's already mad at me for outranking him in the Zine poll…"

"Ah…how cute, the little kiddies are having a fight over their pathetic rankings in the poll…of course, I don't have to worry about where I ranked, because I know that…" Twister chuckled nervously, grinning up at his older brother.

"Actually, Lars, I outranked you, too…"

"¿Usted _QUÉ_?"

-0-0-

Otto frowned, halting from his ollie and looking at the half-pipe in dismay. He'd never been so worked up before, so out of concentration. Guys had kissed Reggie before, and it had never bothered him like this. Sure, he hated them all, but he knew Reggie would eventually decide they weren't right for her and dump them. But this one was different. Some guy comes and sweeps his sister off her feet, and then disappears from the map.

There was a shifting in the bushes, and Otto looked to the area, his frown increasing to an unwelcoming scowl.

"What do you want?" Otto demanded.

"Just to talk."

"Then talk, make it fast, and then get lost." Otto spat.

"Alright. I know who kissed your sister." There was a silent pause. Otto kicked his board into his hand, advancing on the newcomer.

"What do you know?" he hissed.

"A name. The name of the one who kissed your sister."

"Stop that," Otto growled, "Let's say you do know…why would _you_ tell me?"

"Because it isn't fair. I don't want to see Reggie get hurt. And I don't want to see you kicked to second best in her heart."

"Really," Otto said skeptically, "Later…_much_." He turned on his heel, walking back towards his house.

"Alright. Be betrayed by your best friend." Otto stopped.

"What did you just say?" he turned, his eyes boring into the intruder, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"What do you think? Your so-called best friend…"

"Twister?"

"Yes, Twister. He's the one. It was him, that kissed her."

"How do you know that?" Otto demanded, a raised eyebrow, doubtful.

"He was bragging about it just recently. She's an older girl, attractive…fairly well endowed. Um…he said…what was it…ella era fácil de besarse." Otto's hand tightened into a fist. "Do you know what it means?"

"Yeah," Otto spat, "I _know_ what it means," he narrowed his eyes at the informant, "What do you gain from this, from telling me?"

"He outranked me in that poll, for one thing, and it's obvious how he pulled _that_ off. I don't like to lose, especially in such a foul, underhanded method. I figure, this way, we all win…except maybe him…but he put himself in that…uh…lose-lose situation."

* * *

END A/N: For those of you who know who the informant is (and I don't doubt most of you have figured it out) please keep it to yourself, I don't want the story ruined for those who haven't figured it out. 

It'll become evident in the story that Otto knows a little Spanish, too, mainly because his best friend since early childhood speaks Spanish. You'd figure he'd pick something up (probably mostly curse words). Yes, Twister is a slight ashamed of his hispanic heritage (and I know a guy who was like this...he didn't want his mother to speak to us at all because she had such a thick hispanic accent and he was embarrased by it. Can you believe that? My grandmother's japanese, and has a really thick japanese accent -- most of my childhood I had no idea what she was saying --, I would never, _ever_ dream of telling my grandma not to talk to my friends from 'shame of her accent')

Okay...translations (blech) let's see...:

_Otto es enojado_ (Otto is mad)/_Lars va a ser tan enojado_ (Lars is going to be mad)  
_Lars va a batirme _(Lars is going to beat me)  
_¿Por qué no podría ser lame-o como Squid, alineado en viente algo? ¿Quién habría podido votar posiblemente por mi? ¿Reggie votó quizá por mi?"_ (Why couldn't I be a lame-o like Squid, ranking intwenty something? Who could have possibly voted for me? Maybe Reggie voted for me?) -- Yeah, he's just ranting about the stupid poll, he's worried about how everyone's going to react towards him because of it.  
Though, _es clase de_ cool (Though, it is kind of cool).

_qué nos tienen aquí? _(What have we here?)  
_es cantidad muy pequeño_…(is a very little amount...)  
_Besé a muchacha_(I kissed a girl.)  
not just _**alguna** muchacha_…Reggie (not just _any_ girl...Reggie)  
"¿_Usted qué? Usted besó Rocket Girl_? (Say what? You kissed Rocket Girl?)  
_Oh Reggie…usted es tan bonita _(--CHANGE--how come I didn't catch this? Thank the fanfiction gods for the new export system so I could fix this little mishap...Reggie's a girl, not a guy, which means the ending should have a feminine conotation as opposed to a masculine, -a instead of -o)…_voluntad que usted se besa con mí? Reggie, te amo_…(Oh Reggie...you're so pretty...will you kiss with me? Reggie, I love you...) -- Lars is just teasing him...  
_¡Si él descubre besé Reggie que él me matará! ....Y peor..._ (If he discovers I kissed Reggie he'll kill me...or worse...)  
_Con todo mi corazón_ (This is an incredibly, and pathetically sappy statement. I love it so much!)  
_Usted necesita cualquier dice a Otto qué usted hizo o se olvida sobre qué sucedió, así como sus emociones para Regina_.(You need to either tell Otto what happened or forget about it and your feelings (emotions) for Regina). -- This is actually a fairly important statement in that conversation...if anyone feels that it needs to be translated up there, please tell me, and I'll do so.  
_mi hermanito_ (my little brother (-ito is a suffix that can mean little or small))  
--This conversation was done in Spanish for a very important reason...the brothers could talk more privately about the more personal issue as they are the only family they know of on the street that speaks Spanish fluently; they didn't have to worry about some eavesdropper.

the last spanish statement that's important in this story is the one told to Otto:  
_ella era fácil de besarse_, which means, she was easy to kiss. Otto says he knows what it means, but whether he knows the literal translation, or simply gets the gist of it...I honestly don't know.

THAT WAS FUN! You all learned some fun Spanish phrases today, if you didn't already know them. Wasn't that conversation between Lars and Twister so touching...so brotherly...sniffles...I wonder if it was Lars that told Otto at the end, that would suck!

I hope you were all satisfied with the rankings of all the guys. If you're wondering, the top five were as follows:  
5) Lars  
4) Trent -- I didn't mention this one, but it's where he ranked...maybe later in the story...nah.  
3) Otto  
2) Ricky  
1) Twister

Alright, please excuse any grammatical and typing errors (especially pertaining to the Spanish parts), and please **_REVIEW_**!

Thanks for Reading!


	4. The Affair of the Kiss pt1

A/N: Yay! I hope these two chaps keep you guys preoccupied while I go work on the rest of the chapter of Killing the Daisies, and I finish the last chap of WSL (It's over...already...sniffles...30-something chaps doesn't seem long enough...was I in the fourties? meh..)

Thanks to the reviewers! **RavenForever**: that is ironic...I hope you understand this chap better... **SteffieWitter96**: Yeah, I only took two years of Spanish...and I learned...how to say hot dog? Man, that sucks. I wanted to paint Lars and Twister's relationship a little different, because they have gotten older, I just figured their relationship would go one of two ways...they would either mature and start along better, or, move to beating the crap out of one another every chance they got. It's obvious which path I chose...yes, I do love long reviews (hint, hint everyone!). **VUWildCat**: Yeah, I hate Ricky. I was gonna use Trent originally, but I didn't want to bastardize his character...so...yup... **iluvdanbyrd**: yay! I love Twister too, he's my fav character from the show (Sam comes second, and a close call for Otto). I think I'm using Spanish more in the next chapters, mainly because the story's starting to focus more on Twister. **jovhyz**: I'm glad my Spanish didn't suck. And yes, I'm a cheater. There is some slang, that I use, that the translator couldn't get. So, I don't cheat entirely! (ie. Gringo, hermanito...) **Chimaira009**: Here's the fourth, and because I didn't feel you should have to wait so long again, the fifth as well. **Warina-Kinomoto**: You're brazilian? I love brazilians! I want to go to Brazil one day, but then I'd have to learn portuguese...thanks for the offer, though I'm having fun cheating, if you could point out any mistakes, I'd appreciate it!**bob**: So I used your idea, I hope you're happy. What's wrong with King Arthur? He was pretty awesome, though he was nothing without Merlin. **Peachy15**: Thankies...! **RoxySurferGurl623**: 1st, no problemo, though I wouldn't say I'm a saint...more like, a sinner who loves to indulge her readers. 2nd, it's more like a soap opera...without the pregnancies and alien abductions and stuff...but that's cool. I have to look at the translations...

Okay, as per request, I put the translations next to the Spanish (even though I feel it disrupts the flow of the story). Sigh. I didn't put them next to everything, just the ones you need to know what they're saying. If anyone wants a translation to something, you could always e-mail me, or just ask maybe jovyhz, or Warina-Kinomoto, and they may be willing to translate.

ENJOY!

* * *

The Affair of the Kiss pt.1

Twister raced down the stairs of his house, nearly colliding with his mother, and grabbing his blades and gear, his camera bag slung over his shoulder. He slammed the door behind him as he raced over to the Rockets'.

"Maurice! Did you want breakfast?" Sandy called after her son to no avail. He was long gone.

It had been a long night for Twister, filled with tossing and turning and painstaking insomnia. He'd open his eyes and think of Reggie, then close his eyes and Otto's extremely angry face filled his vision, and suddenly he was wide-awake, thinking of Reggie again. It was driving him insane. He'd decided that morning, groggily, that he would speak to Reggie. In fact, he was determined to speak to her about the whole thing. And then maybe, just maybe, he'd have the guts to talk to Otto about it. He stopped at the Rockets' driveway, staring up unhappily at the house he was usually so excited to visit. He felt sick.

"Hey, Twister," Ray called, coming down the walkway to get the newspaper, dressed in a t-shirt and board shorts. He looked ready for work, which he was probably heading towards that day. He had to open Rocket Boards, the family owned board shop. It was close to the start of tourist season, a.k.a. Spring Break, which meant both the shop and the diner would be doing heavy business the next couple weeks.

"What's up, Raymundo," Twister returned the greeting, a little quietly. The older man stopped, paper in hand, giving Twister a once over.

"You look wiped, man, what's the matter?"

"Didn't sleep well," Twister shrugged, "Is…um…" How would he word that he was there to see Reggie?

"Otto's up, I know, it's the end of the world he's awake early, why he feels he needs so much sleep...but _you_ look like you should head home and catch forty more winks, kid."

"I'm fine. Otto's right in there, huh?"

"Yup. I've got to get going to the shop, you know your way in." Twister waved good-bye as Ray clamored into his car and pulled out of the driveway, tossing the paper to the passenger's seat. He'd read it at work, most likely. Swallowing hard, Twister glanced back up at the Rocket house, heading to the door and opening it carefully. He'd gone way past knocking for entry into that house long ago, but somehow, it felt like he was intruding that day. Twister put his things on the ground, clearing his dry throat.

"Otto?" he called, "Hello?" He nearly jumped when he noticed the dark figure staring at him from the kitchen entrance. "Otto-man, I didn't see you there. Why didn't you say anything?" Otto's silent demeanor washed over Twister and he frowned. There was something menacing about his best friend, "Is anything wrong?"

"Yeah, there's a lot wrong," Otto sneered, advancing on Twister, who stepped back slightly, "Like my best bro going behind my back and taking advantage of my sister!"

"_Say what_? What are you talking about?" Twister cried, taken aback. Otto's hands clenched into tight fists, hanging tautly at his sides, he stopped in front of Twister, less than a foot between them. Twister was taller by several inches, but that didn't make Otto any less intimidating.

"She's my sister," Otto seethed through gritted teeth, "You think she's easy? Or fácil, I should say!"

"Huh? Once again, _what are you talking about_? Why are you mad at me Otto, is this about that poll?

"The _poll_," Otto screeched, suddenly grasped with rage, "You damned…damned…híbrido," Twister gaped, "No wonder you pulled number one…hell Sam'd get number one if he was sucking face with one of the editors!"

"What?" Twister felt his stomach sinking. There was little doubt in his mind from the beginning what Otto had erupted over, but now he was positive. Otto knew, and boy, was he pissed.

"What is going on down here?" Reggie's voice interrupted, quavering from the tension between the two friends. She stood still on the staircase, looking between the boys with wide confused eyes.

"Reg…" Twister mumbled, "I…um…"

"Stay out of this, Reggie," Otto snarled, turning back to Twister, "Get out of my house!"

"What? But Otto…" Twister protested, and without warning, Otto attacked, his fist connecting squarely with Twister's jaw.

"Twister!" Reggie cried in shock, coming down the stairs and stepping between the two, "Otto! What is wrong with you? He's your best bro, remember?"

"_Really_? Is that _so_?" Otto spat, "Because if I recall correctly, best bros don't stab one another in the back!"

"What are you talking about?" she demanded, but Otto wasn't paying much attention to her, his eyes still glowering at his, apparently now, former best friend.

"Stay away from my sister," he said evenly.

"_Excuse_ me?" Reggie cried incredulously, "I think I'll decide for myself who's to stay away from me or not…"

"Yeah," Otto snapped, "Let me put it this way, if I ever see you near my sister again, _Maurice_, I'll whomp you so hard you'll remember all the things you never could! Don't quite understand? I'll say it in a language you might, no venir estas cerca my sister, puta! Now get lost, lame-o!" He spun around abruptly, racing up the steps to his room, where they heard the door slam shut.

"That sentence didn't even make sense," Twister muttered quietly. He wasn't sure if he should be angry, hurt, or miserably depressed. His mind was reeling. How could Otto have found out about him kissing Reggie? The only answer was painful, Twister knew that, but it was the only possible way. He looked down; Reggie was staring up at where her brother had disappeared, her hand resting softly on Twister's chest. She'd put it there, when she was trying to break the two boys up. He hadn't realized, but now it felt hot, permeating through his shirt to burn his skin.

"What is his malfunction?" Reggie grinded, her jaw set firm, her eyes fiery with rage.

"He knows," Twister mumbled, "He knows that we…" Reggie looked up to him, blushed, realizing where her hand was, and pulling it away slightly faster than she'd intended. Twister frowned dejectedly; he suddenly found himself missing the warmth.

"Oh man," Reggie muttered, "But still, that gives him no right…"

"You're his sister, so it does. He cares about you, wants to protect you…I feel the same," Twister said, then reddening, "I mean…if I were him, I'd feel the same…I understand where he's coming from…um…I should go."

"You don't have to," Reggie whispered.

"Otto doesn't want me here, I should leave."

"Otto and everything he wants can go drink ocean water, for all I care. Come on, you're bleeding, we have a first aid kit in the kitchen," she told him, taking his hand and leading him through the house. He didn't protest.

Reggie sat Twister at the table, rummaging through the cabinets for the first aid kit. She found it with ease; setting it beside Twister, open. He was silent, his eyes downcast, sulking obviously. Otto had been harsh, Reggie knew that, way harsher than was necessary. And while Twister may have been ready to roll over and do exactly as Otto commanded, she had a few choice words she'd like to impart on her brother at that moment.

With trembling fingers, Reggie tilted Twister's chin upward, a damp cloth in her hand. Otto's strike had left a bloody lip and she felt responsible for tending to it. He was looking away from her, avoiding eye contact, and his quiet manner was eerie.

"He overreacted," Reggie assured Twister, "Don't blame yourself."

"Why not? It is my fault."

"But it was just a kiss, a stupid kiss that didn't mean anything." Twister fell silent again, his heart pounding in his chest, "He's being stupid, he's the one being a lame-o. I'll tell him that." She trailed off, focusing on the small cut. "If it's anyone's fault, it's mine." They met eyes for a brief moment.

There didn't seem to be time between, as suddenly, Reggie felt her lips brush along his. Her hair fell, sprawled along her cheek, lips parting slightly. She placed a hand on his shoulder for support, deepening the kiss, her other hand cupped along his neck and jaw line. It wasn't as tentative as the first, more so, determined. Her eyes were closed and she was desperate to simply memorize everything about the kiss, every way their lips moved, every motion, every taste, every smell. And she couldn't think at all.

Twister's hand came up slightly, gingerly touching the side of Reggie's hip, and the metallic taste of blood touched her tongue. She was suddenly bombarded with thoughts, rushing through her mind, and she pulled away, stumbling back and grasping the counter behind her for support. She was gasping for breath, her face splotched pink, and his eyes were wide, uncertain. Neither knew exactly what had happened. Reggie chewed her upper lip slightly, her heart beating for release from her ribcage.

"Whoa," she cried, "Um…I have…things to do…yes! I have homework…and…uh…your mom called, yeah, earlier, before I came down…so you should go home…and…" She stopped when Twister stood, his eyes studying the tile floor.

"Maybe Otto's right…" he mumbled, "Maybe we should stay away from each other. I'll see you around." Without another word, he left. Reggie wanted to call after him, wanted to stop him, wanted to say something, _anything_, but she couldn't seem to form any words. Her throat seemed closed, her tongue felt like rubber. She sank to the linoleum, wrapping her arms around her knees, and lay her head down.

"Calm down," she begged herself, "It's _Twister_, Reg, what's wrong with you? They've fought before; they'll get over it. It's _just_ Twister." She buried her face, "Then why do I feel like crying?"

-0-0-

Twister slammed the door of his house shut, pounding his way up stairs and flinging his brother's room door open. Lars stirred slightly, peeking out from his blankets; he'd yet to rise for the day.

"No puedo creer que le confiaba en (I can't believe I trusted you.)," Twister spat in disgust, and Lars sat up slightly, drowsily looking out at his brother from under a mess of hair.

"What? What's going on?"

"I never should have told you anything," Twister continued, fuming, "I never should have trusted you! ¡Usted me traicionó! ¿Por qué debo ser sorprendido? ¡Usted me traiciona siempre! (You betrayed me. Why should I be surprised? You always betray me!)"

"Whoa, wait, what are you talking about?" Lars demanded, tossing his blankets off and on his feet, crossing over to his door.

"¡Usted podría nunca ser un hermano a mí! ¡Usted siempre tuvo que ser un asno, mi enemigo! ¡Usted tiene que mover hacia atrás me apuñala cada ocasión que usted consigue! ¡Y como un tonto estúpido, le di esa ocasión! (You could never be a brother to me! You always had to be an ass, my enemy! You have to backstab me every chance you get! And like a stupid fool, I gave you that chance!)"

"¿Qué? ¿Qué en el mundo usted está hablando? (What in the world are you talking about?) I haven't betrayed you…at least, not as of late!"

"¿Cuál es todo este ruido? (What is all this noise?)" Cleo demanded, rounding up the stairs. Twister shook his head, turning on his heel and heading towards his own room.

"Oh, no, you don't," Lars growled, storming after his younger brother, both pushing their ways past Cleo who stared at them in confusion, "You don't come up here and accuse me of all that shit and just turn around and leave. ¡Usted consiguió un problema con mí, usted me dice cuáles es ese problema! (You got a problem with me, you tell me what that problem is!) ¿So, Cuál es el problema?"

"I've only ever asked you for one thing in my life," Twister hissed, turning on his brother with burning anger evident in his eyes, "Le pregunto que no decir Otto sobre Reggie, y le haga apenas eso."

"What about Reggie?" Cleo tried to get their attention, but they were too preoccupied with one another.

"Whoa, wait, excuse me? ¡Dije nadie! If I had told anyone your little secret, you'd know it! I am not taking the blame. No dije a dork su secreto, y no tengo gusto de ser culpada por algún otro. (I didn't tell the dork your secret, and I'm not taking the fall for someone else) ¡Usted mejora el desgaste que usted lanza esas acusaciones, hermanito, o puedo tuve que whomp usted! (You better watch wear you throw those accusations, little brother, or I may have to whomp you!)"

"Otto es enojado en mí. Usted es el único quién sabía, ninguno otro habría podido decirle. Ahora, los gracias a usted, tengo nadie. Él era más de un hermano a mí que usted, y ahora... ahora _no_ tengo ningún hermano. (Otto is mad at me. You're the only one who knew, no one else could have told him. Now, thanks to you, I have no one. He was more of a brother to me than you, and now...now I have no brother.)" Lars' trembled slightly, his hands clenched, biting into the flesh of his palms. He narrowed his eyes at the ground, feeling the heat of the statement burning within him.

"More of a brother to you…" he repeated, and Cleo stood back, seeing Sandy and Raul climbing the stairs with varying looks of annoyance and distraught.

"What is going on up here?" Raul started, but was promptly interrupted by Lars.

"¡Quizá si usted fuera un hermanito mejor, no tendría que ser tal tirón! (Maybe if you were a better little brother, I wouldn't have to be a jerk!)" Twister sniffed, shaking his head.

"¡Usted nunca ha cuidado sobre mí! ¿Miro a Reggie y a Otto y me pregunto porqué no puedo tener eso, y usted me está diciendo que sea _mi_ avería? (You've never cared about me! I look at Reggie and Otto and wonder why I can't have that, and you're telling me it's my fault?)"

"Lars, Maurice," Raul attempted again, "Will one of you please tell me what is going on here?"

"Usted nunca ha sido agradecido..." Lars started. (You've never been grateful…)

"¿Agradecido? ¿Para qué me hacen tienen que para ser agradecido?" Twister interrupted. (Grateful? Why should I be grateful?)

"Agradecido le dejé..." (Grateful I let you…)

"¡Usted no puede dejarme _solamente_!" (You never let me alone!)

"¡Usted es siempre tal dolor!" (You're always a pain!)

"Now, boys…"

"¡Usted siempre me _causa_ dolor!" (You always cause me pain!)

"Maurice, that is not true…"

"Si usted no piss me off... (If you didn't piss me off…)

"Lars, he's your brother!"

"¡Usted es el quién me traicionó!" (You're the one who betrayed me!) Sandy sighed, her husband's futile attempt to calm the boys down not working. She rolled her sleeves up, placing her hands aggressively on her hips.

"Maurice, Lars…" she started calmly over their constant shouts and exchanged insults, "Silencio!" Everyone fell silent, "Now, if one of you would please explain what is going on."

"Puedo nunca perdonarle para esto. Le odio, Lars," Twister said simply. The older boy's shoulders slumped. He tried to look less hurt than he really was, tried to put his feelings into anger, but the words echoed in his ears and he couldn't muster the strength. His younger brother hated him, and despite the tough bullying front he always had up, it really bothered him.

"I know I've never been that great a brother," Lars finally whispered, "But…but I…but…no dije su secreto. Usted tengo que creerme. (I didn't tell your secret. You have to believe me.)" Twister sighed, opening his bedroom door.

"Cualquier manera... no importa, (Either way, it's not important.)" he mumbled, "My best bro and I are split."

* * *

END A/N: Okay, so, we got a fight between Otto and Twister, and of course, Reggie was kind of pissed herself. Another kiss, arguably hotter than the first (I can just picture it in my head, him sitting at the table, her kissing him...yeah, I'm weird). And a fight between Lars and Twister. Poor Lars...he doesn't want his brother to hate him, just to dislike him a little. What could possible happen in the next chapter? Which is by far longer than this one... 

Please excuse any gramatical and typing errors, and go _**REVIEW**_! Please...pretty please...you're all so good at reviewing, which I love, ten reviews for last chap rocks.

THanks for REading! Adios, mi amigos!


	5. The Affair of the Kiss pt2

A/N: I forgot to talk about the title...which I thought was pretty clever on my part. The Affair of the Kiss is a parody of the title The Affair of the Necklace (which is a movie, and I also think it was a book). Basically, in the movie, some French woman concocts an elaborate scheme to steal a diamond necklace from some evil cardinal dude. Meh, Hillary Swank is in it, if you like the actress...

Um...on to the story.

ENJOY!

* * *

The Affair of the Kiss pt. 2

For the next several days, Otto seemed to act as though nothing were wrong. Aside from the fact he wouldn't speak to his sister and he gave his former best friend the cold shoulder whenever they chanced meeting. And, true to his word, Twister stayed away from Reggie. He all but avoided her in the halls, at lunchtime, and after school. Though, this behavior wasn't much different from the way he treated pretty much everyone else around him. He failed to crack smiles, wandering about the days in a half-haze, and time seemed to meld together for him. He was simply going through the motions. Then he would go straight home, lock himself in his room, and stay there.

And poor Sam had no idea what was going on, and nobody seemed willing to clue him in on the recent happening.

"Twister's over there," Sam said as he and Otto entered the cafeteria, "Let's go sit with him."

"Or, not," Otto scowled, the notion obviously to his distaste.

"But…okay…" They took a seat, and Sam opened his lunch, glancing over to Twister who was looking at them. Twister pushed his bag lunch, uneaten, into the trashcan, standing. For a moment, Sam thought the redhead was coming to join them, but he exited the cafeteria.

"This meat is dry," Otto commented, and Sam leaned on his elbow frowning at the Rocket boy.

"What is with you and Twister? And Reggie, too? Something's going on between you three and I want to know what that is," Sam demanded. Otto sneered at him.

"I'd rather you not mention my back stabbing _ex_-best bro and that traitorous sister of mine," he spat, "Can we please talk about something else."

"But…okay," Sam muttered, picking at his sandwich, "What is there to talk about?"

"Um…" Otto murmured, "Have I told you what a lame-o Twister is?" Sam rolled his eyes, sinking to the table, and lowering his head.

-0-0-

Reggie sighed, slumping in her chair. She wasn't even aware of what class she was in, as she laid her head down, drawing circles on the paper in front of her. Her mind trailed to deep thoughts as the teacher droned on in the front, nothing more than a noisome buzzing in the background.

The past few days had been hard on Reggie. Without her brother and Twister to talk to and hang out with, she was almost under a trance, unable to even see straight at times from the tears forming in her eyes. She touched her bottom lip with her tongue, chewing it softly. She couldn't pull her mind off that last kiss. What had happened? How had she suddenly gone from cleaning his scar to exchanging an intimate gesture with him? She remembered his eyes catching her own, and that something had overcome her. She'd leaned forward, and…

Reggie all but slapped her forehead. _She_ had initiated the second kiss? What was wrong with her? She couldn't concentrate those days, couldn't think straight, her mind constantly on the young redheaded boy she'd known her whole life. And then suddenly she's kissing him in her kitchen, wanting to kiss him, wanting to be near him? There is no possible way; Reggie told herself, that this is what she thinks it is. There had to be a logical reason for it.

"Miss Rocket…" the name seemed to be clearest through the buzz of the class. There was a sharp jab in Reggie's back, and she was startled by Trish's voice, the jabber.

"The teacher is talking to you," Trish whispered roughly.

"Huh…Twist?" Reggie murmured, blinking. There was silence. Trish and Sherry's eyes rose a mile wide, and the teacher, who didn't quite understand the reference, simply crossed her arms and smirked down at the young Rocket girl.

"No, Miss Rocket, I'm fairly certain the answer to question twelve is not Twist," the teacher said and the classroom erupted into laughter. Reggie sank farther into her desk, red in the face. Trent had turned to glance at her and Ricky in the front was watching from the corner of his eye.

"Sorry, ma'am," Reggie mumbled. Class continued, drudging on, and Reggie attempted to pay close attention. When the bell finally rang, the students flooded out, but the teacher called Reggie back. "I'm really sorry about what happened, ma'am. It won't happen again…"

"Miss Rocket, you know that you are the top student in this class, right?"

"Um…yeah…"

"And because of that, I expect certain things of you. I know it's not fair, but it's how it is. This past week, you've been elsewhere. You failed to turn in three of the four homework assignments, the one you did turn in was half-complete, you fail to do the class work, you haven't been paying attention…you know, you can tell me if something is wrong."

"Mrs.…"

"I know that you and your brother are very close, and I've also noticed that you two have seemed distant in the hallways. I haven't seen you around your usual friends; you've been spending more time in the halls with Sherry, Trish, and, now, Ricky. Is there family troubles?"

"You have no idea…" Reggie muttered, then a bit louder, "I'm trying to sort things out, but it's nothing big. School's my number one priority, and I'll get back on track, I promise. I have to go, ma'am, I have to get home."

The moment Reggie stepped out the door; Trish and Sherry, each grabbing on to one of her arms, surrounded her.

"I think we need to have a little talk," Trish said.

"Yeah, all about everything you're not telling us," Sherry added.

It wasn't long before they'd all gathered in Reggie's room. Trish stood at the door, Sherry at the computer desk, and Cleo; whom they'd picked up on the way, was perched on Reggie's bed. They stared intently at Reggie who stood in the middle of the room telling them the recent happenings. She finished with a heavy sigh.

"Now Otto isn't talking to Twister, Twister isn't coming anywhere near me, and I…I don't know what to do," Reggie leaned back, closing her eyes, "I'm so mad at Otto."

"Alright…um…back to the beginning," Sherry spoke up meekly, "The person who gave you _the_ kiss was…_Twister_?"

"Yes, Sherry," Reggie groaned.

"Oh, muchacha," Cleo exclaimed, "I've known Maurice my whole life…who knew my little cousin had _that_ in him! Otto really said those things to Maurice, though? No wonder."

"No wonder what?" Reggie inquired hesitantly.

"He's always in his room now, never comes out unless to go to the bathroom. He doesn't even come down for dinner. Aunt Sandy is so worried…but he won't talk…and that must be why he and Lars had that fight."

"What does Lars have to do with anything?" Reggie demanded, straightening.

"That day, Sunday, Maurice came home upset. He got in a fight with Lars, said Lars betrayed him, told his secret. It was bad. I've never seen Lars so…mm…bummed over something someone's said, but when my little cousin told Lars he hated him…"

"Sunday was when Otto and Twister got in the fight. Oh man, Lars wouldn't be that cruel would he?"

"No," Cleo said steadily, "Lars was very adamant in his innocence. I don't think he did. But in any case, this is seriously affecting my chances of moving out here. Aunt Sandy and Uncle Raul said that if Maurice and Lars don't start getting along better, there's no way I'll be able to transfer to Ocean Shores."

"Oh, this is so aggravating," Reggie cried, "Otto is ruining everything! Is there no chance of Twister and Lars making up? Oh man, I know _that's_ a long shot."

"Okay, back up," Sherry interrupted, "Twister…as in Maurice 'Twister' Rodriguez?"

"Yes," Reggie cried in exasperation.

"Redhead, with freckles, always carries a camera around, Twister?"

"How many Twister's do you know?" Reggie demanded, and Sherry shrugged, looking away.

"Just the one…but…I mean, it's Twister."

"What, may I ask is that supposed to mean?" Cleo questioned, a raised eyebrow, "And, need I remind you, he is my cousin."

"Chill, Cleo. Sherry's not dissing the boy," Trish stepped in, "She's just saying, Twister is…well…Twister. He's a great guy…he just doesn't exactly fit the profile of a totally rad kisser."

"I guess you're right," Cleo agreed, pulling her leg up to her chest.

"_Hello_," Reggie cried, "Can we get back to my problem? What do I do? And, way more importantly, what is wrong with me?"

"Just one more question," Sherry said, and Reggie rolled her eyes, "Was there tongue?" Trish and Cleo stared blinkingly at the pertinent blonde, and Reggie groaned inwardly.

"Sherry, what kind of question is that? My brother's icing out his best friend because of me, and all you can ask about is if there was tongue?" She sighed as Trish and Cleo turned looking expectantly at her. She frowned, mumbling, "Maybe a little with the second kiss."

"Ew," Trish moaned, slightly disgusted, "His or yours?"

"_Trish_," Reggie cried, then burying her face in her hands, "His. Can we get back to my problem now?"

"Oh, Maurice slipped you the tongue. Now _this_ I have to tease him about," Cleo clapped her hands together, squealing excitedly.

"You can't," Reggie pleaded, "Don't even mention it to him!"

"Why? Is this a secret? Are you having some hidden romance with my cousin and you're not going to tell me about it, or let me tease him for it?"

"We don't have a hidden romance," Reggie flopped to the ground, her heart thudding loudly now, reminded of the shared kisses and now with the idea of romance hanging in the air. Did she…_like_ Twister? No, it was not possible. Like Trish said, Twister was Twister. "What do I do? What's going on with me?"

"Oh, it's obvious what's going on here," Sherry proclaimed, and the other girls looked at her in skeptical disbelief.

"What?" Reggie asked.

"Yeah, I'd like to hear this one, too," Trish conceded.

"You are craving a man's touch," Sherry explained, "It's been how long since you're last boyfriend? You want kissing and snuggling; something you haven't been getting lately, something every girl needs. And here's Twister, more than willing, and obviously able to give it. It's a mere chemical reaction. You want a man and any little boy will do, apparently."

"I hate to admit this, but that actually made sense," Trish muttered and Reggie nodded. Cleo crossed her arms over her chest, but said nothing.

"And let's face it, we're all agreed, Twister hasn't exactly grown up to be unattractive," Sherry went on, "So maybe there's a little physical attraction going on there too."

"And that's it?" Reggie pressed, "What about him though, what does he get from this?"

"He's a guy, what do you think he's getting out of it," Trish put in.

"Yup. That's my hypothesis." Sherry nodded.

"My mother has a saying, Reggie," Cleo spoke up, "Cuando es amor, es amor. Usted puede darle solamente adentro, porque se toma ya el asimiento de usted."

"What's that mean?" Reggie asked.

"It means, you're thinking too much with your head, when your heart already knows," Cleo clarified, "You should be following this," Cleo patted her chest where her heart was, then pointed to her head, "Instead of this. When has your heart ever let you down before?"

"I get that," Reggie muttered, "I just don't know what my heart is trying to tell me." Cleo shrugged, she had nothing more to say.

"My solution, is this," Sherry interjected, "You need a guy, so get a guy. I don't think Trent will be asking you out anytime soon, though, we all know he's totally interested. But I know for a fact, Ricky, the blonde babe, has his eye on you and a mission to ask you on a date tomorrow at lunch. When he asks, say yes."

"Ricky?" Reggie said skeptically, "I don't know…"

"You two get along," Trish argued.

"Yeah, now we do," Reggie sighed, "I…" she chewed her lower lip, remembered Twister's touch, flushed. She had to stop this, get some sort of cure for her apparent addiction to his kiss, and then sort things out between her brother and their best friend, "Okay, I will."

-0-0-

Otto sat on the curb in front of the Rockets' house staring at the roller blades on his feet. It was late; the sun was just beginning to set. He knew he should go in and start dinner, but Reggie hadn't been eating his meals, and he wasn't really hungry. It would be a waste. He startled, when a young woman exited the Rocket house and jogged down the walkway, waving over her shoulder.

"I'll see you later, Reggie," she called, and then stopped abruptly, seeing Otto.

"Hey, Cleo," he greeted a slight nervously. She frowned, placing her hands on her hips.

"Yo," she acknowledged, turning to make her way to the Rodriguez house. Otto pulled himself up, wanting someone to talk to.

"Where you going?" he called after her, and skating into her way. She stopped, jerking back and scowling at him, "What's up?"

"Perhaps you should ask Maurice what's up," she sneered, "I believe he's in his room wearing a hole in his bed, blasting his loud noisy music, and starving himself."

"Oh man," Otto muttered, running his hand over the back of his neck, "Reggie told you, huh? I can't believe her!"

"I can't believe you…you…you…¡desaliñado, arrogante, tonto de un bastardo! How you could treat someone you have known your whole life with such…such…indiferencia para sus emociones!"

"Look, there are things going on here that you don't know anything about," Otto protested, "He kissed my sister."

"She's a big girl, Otto," Cleo snapped.

"But she's still my sister," Otto argued, "And he's my best bro." Cleo narrowed her eyes at him.

"Don't you mean formerly?"

"Yeah, that's what I said," Otto muttered. Cleo raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest.

"In any case, Reggie's going to date Ricky," she said. Otto met her eyes, shocked.

"_What_? That prick? No way she would."

"Yes, way," Cleo insisted, "I hope you're happy, because now she thinks she has to date this Ricky guy to forget about Twister, and she's all very confused."

"Man, this isn't the way this is supposed to happen…" Otto groaned, "Look, Cleo, I need your help."

"What? You want _me_ to help _you_? After the way you treated my cousin? ¡Usted tiene un poco de nervio, pequeño surfer muchacho! Como le ayudaría siempre! Get out of my way!" She attempted to push past, but Otto grabbed on to her arm.

"I know you're mad at me because I was way harsh to Twist and Reg," he cried, "But just listen, alright…"

-0-0-

Twister sighed as he entered the boys' restroom at school. Lunch had just ended and he was in no rush to get to class, as he shared the period with Otto. He couldn't stand going through another day with the dangerous glares he was constantly being shot from Otto. There was no talking to the stubborn Rocket boy.

Twister sighed, frowning at his reflection. He didn't look good, as a few of the teachers and some students had informed him. He looked dead almost, his eyes not as enlivened as they usually were, his mouth unwilling to move from the creased frown, dark circles under his eyes. Everything was a mess. He couldn't eat, wasn't sleeping well. Him and Otto had gotten into fights before, and they had gotten into fistfights before, but not one that had lasted this long, or had been this serious. Twister touched the scar on his lip; it had scabbed over, and didn't look as bad as even the minor injuries he had exchanged with Lars in the past. But it was the worse wound he'd ever incurred.

It was Lars fault, Twister was certain of it. It had to be. He wanted to trust Lars, but there was no way Twister could believe his older brother. They'd stayed out of one another's ways the past several days, but they lived in the same house, so run-ins were inevitable. Lars would usually mutter something inaudible under his breath, push his way past roughly, and disappear down the stairs or into his bedroom. Twister didn't hate his brother, though it was hard not to, and he missed their usual confrontations and Lars' constant teasing.

The door of the boys' room opened and a recognizable form entered. Twister scowled, eyeing the young blonde man malevolently. Ricky stopped at the faucets, turning one on, standing next to Twister and running some soap and water over his hands.

"You don't look well," Ricky commented, "Maybe you should go home for the day."

"I'm fine," Twister snapped.

"I heard you've been having trouble with your friend, Otto?"

"It's none of your business."

"If it involves Reggie, it is." Twister focused his attention on his bag in front of him, anger boiling up.

"It's _none_ of _your_ business," he repeated tersely.

"Se parecería alguien dejó resbalón a Otto sobre su pequeño beso con su hermana. (It would seem somebody let slip to Otto about your little kiss with his sister.)" Ricky went on, and Twister frowned slightly, until realization struck him, and his eyes widened, he looked to Ricky in shock. The pretty boy just smirked, "¿Usted iba a poner para arriba una lucha? Porque si no, entonces tomarla de usted va a ser tanto más fácil que había pensado originalmente. (Were you going to put up a fight? Because if not, then taking her from you is going to be so much easier than I had originally thought.)"

"You…" Twister began, heart pounding in his chest, "¿Habla Español?" Ricky's smile broadened, and he patted Twister's cheek gently before turning to the door.

"I don't lose," he called over his shoulder, before stopping and turning to lean at the swinging door and bore his cold stare into Twister's fiery one.

"I haven't done anything to you," Twister hissed, "What's your beef with me, man?"

"Haven't you ever met someone you just didn't like?" Ricky asked, then a smile slid across his lips, "You annoy me, and you made me look like an ass in front of Reggie, a fine specimen of woman."

"You don't need my help to look like an ass. Reg is smart, there's no way she'd fall for you."

"On the contrary, you're right, she is smart, because she's agreed to date me," Ricky grinned maliciously at the crestfallen look that crossed Twister's face, "Don't worry. I like her. I'll take care of her. It hurts, though, doesn't it? That poll was a fluke, get used to this feeling, because you'll always be passed up by me." Ricky left the restroom, and Twister slammed his fist into the nearby wall.

"¡Maldición! ¡Ese pedazo del gringo de la mierda!" He slumped against the wall, holding his hand. It was bruised, red, and one of the knuckles had split where it caught the edge of a tile, blood now oozing out of the wound and staining the floor. He'd never felt so at a loss. He didn't know what to do, and he had nobody in his corner to help.

* * *

END A/N: I should have warned you guys...but...poor Twist! Things are going to get worse for him. You know, I have no idea how long this story may turn out to be as it's not really one story, but a multitude of stories rolled in to one surrounding a romance between Twist and Reg. It doesn't really have an ending that I'm aware of yet. Does that bug anyone? 

In any case, as to the things I didn't really translate.First off, the word gringo, that Twister uses when cursing Ricky. Gringo is really just a slang word for "white guy", roughly, not literally translated. You know, they call the U.S. Gringolandia (Is that spelled right?). Who's they? I make it sound like a government conspiracy. I think it's mainly just the Mexicans...yup...but I don't know for sure...where are the latino readers? And the "saying" Cleo's mother has. Translated it means "When it's love, it's love. You can only give in to it, because it's already taken hold of you." Basically what Cleo is trying to say is, "Reggie, if you like my cousin, quit second guessing it!"

So now, poor Squid is confused, Reggie is going on a date with the lame-o, Otto appears to have a hidden agenda (what is dreadlock boy plotting...I love his hair...), and Ricky's revealed his evil intentions towards Twister (why does he hate the ever-loveable ditz?) What a mess everything is!

Thanks for reading, please excuse any grammatical or typing erros, and GO _**REVIEW**_! I would so love to hear from you.

Hang loose, bros!


	6. The Affair of the Kiss pt3

A/N: I think I'll have the last part of the Affair of the Kiss up by tomorrow, if I'm lucky. I don't have a class, so I should be good (though I do have to work...damn work...)

Thanks to those who reviewed! **WritingonPaper** (wow, it is easier to type...I love the Spanish too, I'm actually going to give Twister's take on Spanish later on, a maybe a little insight into why he doesn't speak it often. No offense taken!) **jovhyz** (yeah, I know a lot of people think gringo is an insult, I don't know why...in one of my recess fics I named one of the characters Gringo, don't ask why. Yay, props to me for spelling that right!) **iluvdanbyrd** (bring it on, I got an evil monkey living in my closet and a voice in my head that can take on any green simian you send my way! Oh, and here's your update...) **Warina**-**kinomoto** (hm...interesting, about the gringo thing. Oh, and I never told you how rocking your s/n is. CCS is my fav anime, I have the whole series, and the two movies, I love it so!). **KcluvsMI** (I don't know if they will be together...gosh, I hope so though!) **CSIforensicnut09** (why thank you! I'm flattered that you feel so strongly about my story.) **RoxySurferGurl623**(No offense taken, you're supposed to hate Ricky. You'll loathe him later. Otto may actually have a lot of sense roaming around under that mess of hair, don't judge him to fast. And I don't know...things may get better for Twist, they may get worse...I haven't decided yet.) **Relaxing-Pikachu** (Yeah, I love Twist so much, more and more with each episode I watch. Like the eps. Otto and the Fish (of whatever it's called), where they go fishing and Otto wants to catch a big fish and he makes Twist give him the little fish Twister caught (and befriended). The look on Twister's face was _so_ cute. Oh, and the statement 'it was just a kiss, a stupid kiss that didn't mean anything', that was Reggie talking, I guess I didn't make it very clear in the story. I made a programmer's mistake, thinking my paragraphs would do the explaining...so don't curse Twist!) **TheVampireSephy** (How would you kill Ricky, that would be interesting to hear. I'm thinking pain, torture...let's start with shaving him bald...) **RavenForever** (SURE THING!)

Sorry for the length of thank-yous, but so many people review and I like to thank each of them in a personal way...

I utilized a little French in this chap too. I don't speak French. So I cheated, much like with my Spanish, except I know more Spanish then French. Later on in the story Twister is going to give a view on French and Spanish, which is very much my view. Just for a warning, I like Spanish better than French. I know they're both latin based, so very similar, but, come on people, Spanish sounds better!

I apologize. They're both great languages.

ENJOY!

* * *

The Affair of the Kiss pt. 3 

Reggie ran her finger over her bottom lip, gently blotting the gloss. She smacked her lips together, straightened her hair and stepped back, admiring the new jeans she'd bought on a recent shopping trip. She looked nice, if she did say so herself. She was startled to turn and find Otto standing at her doorway.

"So it's true," he muttered, "You are going on a date with that lame-o jerk."

"His name's Ricky," Reggie rolled her eyes, "And yes, I am." She turned her attention back to the mirror, rearranging her hair, and mumbling under her breath, "Thought you'd be happy it's not Twister…"

"You actually like that guy?" Otto pressed, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning in the doorframe.

"What's it to you?" she glowered in his direction, "Was there something on your mind, _Oswald_? Because if not, I have to finish doing my hair."

"You look like a doll," Otto commented, "And that's not a compliment. What's with all the make-up…" he sniffed the air in revolt, "And what's that smell?"

"It's body spray," Reggie snapped, "Look, I'm going on a date with a sophisticated guy, alright, and he likes his girls sophisticated, and I wanted to look nice."

"You look stupid. You should change."

"What is your deal, _bro_?" Reggie demanded, "What is with this sudden need to control every aspect of my life? First you want Sam to kiss me, then you blow up on Twist for doing that exact thing, and now you're criticizing my dress and look. What's next, you gonna '_forbid'_ me to see Ricky also? Twister may be more than willing to do anything to make you happy, but Ricky's not like that."

"Yeah, Ricky doesn't care about anyone but himself. He's a narcissistic asshole."

"I don't get it, Otto, what do you want? Do you want me to…I don't know…you don't want me near Twister, and you don't want me dating Ricky? To tell you the truth Otto, you don't want a lot of things, and there doesn't seem to be room in your world for what I do want," Reggie spat.

"That's the thing, Reg, I don't think you know what you want."

"Oh and you do? Jeez, Otto, what are you honestly so mad about anyways? Is this 'cause of that stupid poll? I didn't mess up the ballot, if that's what you think. Twister got to the top fair and square, but I guess that would bug you too. Your whole life you've always been better than him at everything, and it just pisses you off that suddenly he's got the spotlight on him," Reggie turned to face her brother, narrowing her eyes, "Maybe that's what this is really about. Little Otto is afraid he'll lose his big sister to his best bro." Otto took a deep breath, shaking his head, "Or maybe vice versa, or just both. But either way, the great Rocket boy loses."

"You ever wonder, _Regina_, why it was so easy to get Twister to stop hanging around you? Or why it was so easy to get you to move on? Jeez, Reg, think a little," Otto hissed, "Maybe Twist's not being around isn't because of _me_, maybe it's because of _you_."

"What?" Reggie narrowed her eyes to dangerous slits, "What is that supposed to mean? Dude, you're the one who told him not to come around. How is it because of me?"

"How do you think? You're the one that he kissed," Otto shook his head, turning to leave, "Let me ask you something," he called over his shoulder, "How is this _not_ a lose for me?"

Reggie looked back into the mirror, pursing her lips. What was Otto getting at? How could it be her fault Twister wasn't coming around? It was just a stupid kiss, right?

-0-0-

Twister sat over his computer running some footage for a homework assignment. He yawned, leaning back and frowning at the monitor. It wasn't his best work; that was for certain. Bad angles, bad lighting, bad timing, shaky filming, completely unprofessional, something that was nonexistent when it came to the documentaries Twister made. The only reason he'd been motivated to get up and work on the project was because he knew he had no chance of passing the class without it.

There was a knock at Twister's door and he straightened. He hadn't wanted to see, pretty much, anyone for the past several days. It still held true at that moment.

"Maurice, es Cleo. Abra la puerta."

"I'm busy," he called. It wasn't an entire lie.

"Deseo hablar," Cleo pressed, "Please, let me in. Sé sobre Reggie. Y sé sobre lo hizo qué Otto... y dicho. (I know about Reggie. And I know what Otto did…and said.)" Twister sighed, crossing the room to unlock the door before plopping on his bed while Cleo entered.

"So, you know. You know that…that I…besé Reggie."

"Yeah," Cleo sat beside him, "¡No puedo creer que mi pequeño primo... la cabeza roja clasificada pinta de mi juventud era realmente capaz de hacer algo similar! (I cannot believe my little cousin...the pint sized red head from my youth was actually capable of doing anything like that!)"

"Otto hates me," Twister muttered, "I don't know why, but he hates me."

"He doesn't hate you…he's…" Cleo sighed, "¿Por qué usted lo hizo? ¿Por qué usted arriesgó su amistad con Otto para ese beso? (Why did you do it? Why did you risk your friendship with Otto for that kiss?)" Twister groaned, leaning back, and squeezing his eyes shut.

"¡No sé!" he moaned, "I was being stupid…I…I wasn't thinking…it just happened!"

"Pero usted deseó besar Reggie. (But you wanted to kiss Reggie)"

"Oh man, Cleo, it shouldn't have mattered, I should have thought things through…should have known that…"

"Si era lo que usted deseó, importó. (If it was what you wanted, it did matter.)"

"But Otto…"

"¿Otto? ¿Qué él tiene que hacer con cuál está en su corazón? (Otto? What does he have to do with what is in your heart?)"

"He's my best bro, Cleo," Twister sighed, lying back to stare up at the ceiling, he flushed slightly, continuing sheepishly, "No acabo de desear un beso de Reggie. Yo deseé más. (I did not just want a kiss from Reggie. I wanted more.) I know how Otto is when it comes to his sister, I know better than anyone. She's all he's really got. His father's not there all the time…his mother is…his mother es muerta. Toda su vida Reggie ha sido _su_ hermana... _su_ amigo... _su_ familia... _su _compañero de equipo... el _suyo_. (All his life Reggie has been his sister...his friend...his family...his teammate...his.) I'm his best friend…and I…deseé tomar eso de él. (I wanted to take that from him.)"

"Usted no está tomando cualquiera de eso de él. Ella sigue siendo su hermana, su amigo, su familia, su compañero de equipo. Pero ella nunca era toda la el suyo. (You're not taking any of that from him. She is still his sister, his friend, his family, his teammate. But she was never all his.) She was always her own. ¿Maurice, qué usted realmente se siente sobre todo el esto? Olvídese de Otto, olvídese de lo que él desea. No piense en él primero ahora, y dígame. (Maurice, what do you really feel about all of this? Forget Otto, forget what he wants. Do not think of him first now, and tell me.)" Twister closed his eyes, laying his hands on his stomach and flattening the wrinkles in his shirt. He was so used to putting Otto's wants and needs first that he hadn't realized how often he did it until that moment when he had to push his best bro aside.

"No puedo."

"No me diga eso! Sé que usted puede. Mi pequeño primo preferido no sobrevive nuestras reuniones de la familia poniendo otros antes de él (I know you can. My favorite little cousin does not survive our family reunions by putting others before him.)," Cleo pressed, leaning over him, balancing on her elbow. "¿Cuál es él que usted se sienten ahora?"

"I…I…me siento solamente. Me siento desesperado. Me siento como iré loco si no puedo hablar con Otto otra vez (I feel alone. I feel hopeless. I feel like I will go crazy if I cannot talk to Otto again.)," Twister paused, laying his arm over his eyes, and mumbling, "Me siento como moriré si no veo Reg otra vez. (I feel like I will die if I don't see Reg again.)"

"You really like her," Cleo stated shocked, "I never would have imagined…"

"¿Cuándo sucede? ¿Cuándo usted para el ver alguien como una cosa y comienza a verlos como otra? No entiendo. Todo lo que entiendo es que éste lastima tanto... (When does it happen? When do you stop seeing someone as one thing and start seeing them as another? I don't understand. All I understand is that this hurts so much...) It doesn't matter anyways. Otto doesn't want me near her…" Twister sat up suddenly, leaning forward, his arms resting on his knees, "¡Todo está cayendo aparte debido a ese gringo estúpido! (Everything is falling apart because of that stupid gringo!) Now Reggie is going on a date with him and there's nothing I can do."

"¿Quién? Ricky? What has he done? What part does he play in all of this?"

"It doesn't matter. I turned everyone against me. He's right. I'm not putting up much of a fight, and even if I did, I would have lost anyways. Because I'm stupid," Twister muttered, "Soy un niño estúpido, feo, débil. No merezco Reggie. (I'm a stupid, ugly, weak child. I don't deserve Reggie.) She wouldn't have ever felt the same about me anyways. Otto knows it, Ricky knows it, Lars knows it, but I'm too stupid to know _anything_, why would I know it?" Without warning, Cleo grabbed her cousin's chin, roughly pulling his face to meet her own.

"¡Usted no es ningunas de esas cosas! ¡No hable como eso! Nunca deseo oírle hablar usted mismo que la manera otra vez. ¿Usted me entienda? (You are none of those things! Do not talk like that! I never want to hear you talk about yourself that way again. Do you understand me?)" Twister looked away, searching the room for something to focus on. Cleo released him, wrapping her arms about herself, "Often times we find ourselves asking why we feel the way we feel. Otto cannot tell you how to feel. Su corazón es su el propio. At some point, you must let him know that."

"What will it change? Nada. Otto will still hate me…"

"¡Otto no le odia!"

"And how do you know that? You didn't see him, didn't hear the things he said! Él me golpeó," Twister cried, then pouting, "What does he want me to do? What does he want me to say? I'm not going to beg."

"And you shouldn't," Cleo conceded, "Él no puede estar enojado en usted para tener emociones. En cuanto a Reggie, usted no puede saber lo que ella se siente hasta que usted le dice lo que usted se siente."

"But I can't tell Reggie how I feel!" Twister groaned, "It's not that easy. I mean, why is it so easy to tell you and Lars? You'd think I'd have no trouble telling Reg, I always tell her stuff."

"Y usted no tiene generalmente ningún apuro el hablar de su corazón," Cleo said, then beneath her breath, "... pues usted realmente tiene poco a hablar de..." (And you usually have no trouble speaking from your heart...as you really have little else to speak from...)

"Es estúpido, pero estoy asustado le diré que y ella no desee venir cerca de mí o estar alrededor de mí más," Twister mumbled, rubbing the bridge of his nose in annoyance. (It's stupid, but I'm afraid I'll tell her and she won't want to come near me or be around me anymore.)

"Pero usted debe decirle. Es duro, y no hay garantía que ella volverá las sensaciones, pero es mejor que ella sabe. (But you must tell her. It is hard, and there is no guarantee that she will return the feelings, but it is better that she knows.)"

"¿Por qué? ¿Qué lastimará si ella no sabe? (Why? What will it hurt if she does not know?)" Twister questioned somewhat miserably.

"Usted."

-0-0-

Lars pulled back the curtains of his window to peer out when he heard a car horn blow. There was a silver Benz purring, stopped next to the curb in front of the Rocket house. Lars narrowed his eyes, focusing on the small feminine figure that came running down from the Rocket's to the car. He frowned, knowing that Ricky Steward was the driver of the vehicle, and the young woman was undoubtedly Reggie Rocket. Lars had Ricky in P.E. class and he'd overhead the braggart going on about landing a date with the lovely Regina, who was actually quite allusive.

Lars only hoped Twister wasn't looking out the window at that moment. He frowned, crossing the room to fall onto his bed and stare up at the ceiling crumpling a few popular skater magazines strewn along his mattress. He took it back. He did hope Twister was looking out at the moment and dying of heartbreak.

There was a knock at Lars' door and he scowled. It was locked, so no one was coming in, and he wasn't really interested in letting anyone in at that time.

"¡Salga!" he shouted at the door, praying it wasn't his mother, as he would undoubtedly get an earful for such a disrespectful command. There was a drawn out silence, and he sighed with relief. It was most definitely not his mother at the door.

"Lars," it was Twister. Lars frowned, rolling on his side and looking for a magazine. He was not interested in talking to his little brother, or even so much as dignifying the pint-sized brat with a reply. "Vine disculparme. Estoy realmente, realmente, _realmente_…um…sorry. (I came to apologize. I'm really, really, really sorry.)" Lars flipped the pages of the magazine, not really even looking at them. "Sé que debo haber creídole... pero... well, dude, él no es como usted tiene el mejor expediente para decir la verdad. (I know I should have believed you…but…well, dude, it's not like you have the best record for telling the truth.) I mean, it wasn't until a few months ago that I found out there really _wasn't_ a suitcase of money buried in the backyard."

"Humph," Lars snorted lightly, muttering under his breath, "It's not my fault you're stupid…"

"And, you know," Twister went on, "Le habría creído muy de comenzar si había sabido que Ricky podría hablar español. (I would have believed you from the very beginning if I had known that Ricky could speak Spanish.) I mean, ese individuo lo tiene hacia fuera para mí, yo no sabe porqué..." Lars was up in an instant, swinging the door open. He had to step back when Twister, mid-sentence, fell askew on his floor.

"¿_Qué_? Pretty boy speaks español?" Lars spat, "¿Usted malo decirme que la mama y el papá hayan estado haciendo que haga sus tareas para la última semana, así como mis las propias, debido a esa puerta siguiente de la asno-cara híbrida? (You mean to tell me that mom and dad have been making me do your chores for the past week, as well as my own, because of that bastard ass-face next door?)"

"Ah… sí."

"Oh, he will pay," Lars seethed, then looked down at his brother staring up at him a bit wide-eyed, "Get off my floor, lame-o!" Twister struggled quickly to his feet, staring evenly at his brother.

"Does this mean you accept my apology?" he asked hopefully.

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Lars muttered distractedly, looking about his room and stroking his chin, deep in thought, "How badly does this guy deserve to be whomped…?"

"Good," Twister said, turning to head towards his room. At least something was back to normal, he thought.

"Eh, Maurice," Lars called after him and he paused, turning to face his older brother questioningly, "Si qué usted sugiere es verdad, usted tiene poco pagar de nuevo a hacer a este bastardo también. (If what you suggest is true, you have a little paying back to do to this bastard as well.)" Twister smirked as Lars motioned him back to the room, "I think I have a plan…"

-0-0-

Reggie slipped into the car beside Ricky, smiling sheepishly. He looked to her, nodding, turning the radio down slightly. He seemed a little disappointed.

"What's wrong?" Reggie asked.

"Oh, I thought you might wear a dress or skirt or something…we are going to a fancy restaurant," he commented, then quickly adding, "But you look nice anyways." Reggie lowered her eyes, pushing her hair awkwardly behind her ears.

"Oh…" she mumbled. They drove in silence, the music blaring. Sometimes Ricky would strum his fingers on the steering wheel along with the rhythm, or mouth some of the lyrics, though his lack of singing suggested he probably didn't know them. It was some pop band Reggie wasn't familiar with and the genre of music was one she didn't like. She attempted conversation, "So, what are we listening to?" she didn't really care, "They sound…cool." That was a lie.

"You like them?" Ricky said over the music, "I'll burn you a copy." Reggie chewed her lower lip, looking out the window unhappily. Great, she thought, I need a new coaster. They pulled into a parking lot. Reggie didn't recognize the restaurant; it was a little out of her way. She didn't hang out in the area. They were near Ocean Bluffs.

"I've never eaten here before," Reggie commented, trying to pick up on the conversation thing again.

"Oh, you haven't? I guess you really don't get treated to classy places often," Ricky stated, slipping an arm over her shoulders and leading her to the entrance. Reggie frowned, looking around. There was a great deal of shoobies around, that was for sure. They waited quietly for seating, and the hostess led them to a fairly large booth. The air was clouded with smoke, and a lit candle flickered on the tabletop. The hostess handed them menus, smiling seedily.

"Your waiter will be with you shortly, can I get you anything now?" she asked, less than enthusiastically.

"No, we're fine," Ricky told her, and the hostess left promptly. They opened the menus, Reggie narrowing her eyes at the high-priced items. She didn't recognize an entrée she'd want to eat. She tried to focus on the evening, tried to stop comparing Ricky to a particular young man that she was supposed to be forgetting about, even as he did seem to constantly fall short of said young man, tried to stop pondering the things Otto had said before she left. "Have you decided?" Ricky interrupted Reggie's thoughts. She looked up a bit startled.

"Um…no…I'm not sure," Reggie mumbled, "I'll just get what you're ordering."

"Ah, you'll like Terrine de Foies de Volaille," Ricky smiled. Reggie scrunched her nose.

"What does that mean? I don't speak…whatever language that is…" she asked.

"It's French," Ricky explained, "It means pot of chicken livers."

"You think they just have burgers?" she inquired meekly. He looked away, and she quickly wracked her brain for a change of topic, "So…do you speak French? You lived in France right? Paris is in France." She chuckled, wanting to stuff her napkin down her throat. She sounded like a complete idiot.

"Yes, I speak French, Spanish, Portuguese, German, and a little Italian and Japanese," he replied eagerly, and Reggie forced a smile. She'd found a topic he could stick with, him. He leaned forward dramatically, taking her hands in his, "Votre étincelle d'yeux comme la lumière de matin. Vous êtes comme un bourgeonnement rose, beau et frêle. Romantic, isn't it?" (Your eyes sparkle like the morning light. You are like a budding rose, beautiful and frail)

"Um…" Reggie murmured, "I have no idea what you just said."

"It's French," Ricky grinned disarmingly, "Je vois l'amour dans vos yeux. Vos lèvres, voulant juste être touché par le mien. (I see love in your eyes. Your lips, just wanting to be touched by mine.) It is the language of love, after all."

"Twister speaks Spanish," Reggie blurted out before she could stop herself. She bit her tongue.

"Would you like to hear some Spanish?" Ricky asked, an unnoticeable hitch in his voice. Reggie nodded, wanting to keep the subject off Twister and hoping her mind would follow, "Usted es el merecer mucho más que ese niño. Ahora no piense en él. Piense en mí. Le sostendré en mis brazos, y usted se olvidará de él. Su corazón parará el desear de él cuando esta noche encima. Aseguraré eso. Él me verá con usted y sabrá poco él se compara a mí. Usted es mucho satisfecho para estar en mi brazo. (You are deserving of much more than that child. Do not think of him now. Think of me. I will hold you in my arms, and you will forget him. Your heart will stop wanting him when this night is over. I will ensure that. He'll see me with you and know how little he is compared to me. You are much more suited to be on my arm.) What do you think?"

"I can only understand a few words…I'm taking Spanish this year," Reggie replied, blushingly, "I think I'm just used to Twister's accent, he goes so much faster too…he has a great accent…" she stopped, silently reprimanding herself. You're here to forget him, she told herself, if you don't stop acting weird about him there's no way you can fix things between Otto and him.

"Hello," the waiter greeted, coming up to their table, "I'm Louis, I'll be your server. Would you like to begin with an appetizer."

"Yes, we'd like to start with a little Escargots a la Bourguignonne," Ricky told Louis, "And some drinks. I'll have a tea."

"Cola for me," Reggie spoke up, having a feeling she wouldn't be eating much that evening. The waiter left them and she dared to ask, "Escargot, that's…um…snails right?"

"Yes."

"Eheh…I guess the French don't like fast food," she joked, chuckling nervously. Ricky raised an eyebrow.

"I'm afraid I don't get the joke," he said. Reggie folded her napkin. Don't think it, she begged herself, don't think it. Twister would get the joke. She slumped, lowering her head. This was going to be a long night.

-0-0-

Reggie smiled forcedly at Ricky as they stood on the Rocket's porch. She wanted to rush inside, take a long hot shower, change into her pajamas, and pig out on the left over Chinese food in the fridge. He looked like he wanted a nice little chat and a goodnight kiss, maybe to be invited in.

"Um…so I had a nice time," Reggie said politely, lying through her teeth.

"We'll have to do it again…maybe next Saturday?" Ricky questioned.

"I think…uh…I may be busy next Saturday, I'll have to check." Please let there be a surf competition next Saturday, she pleaded to whatever higher power would listen, oh please…

"Well…" Ricky clapped his hands together, "Do you think maybe I could get a drink of water?" Reggie bit her lower lip, nodding.

"Okay, come in," she opened the door. She could give him a cup, and tell him to keep it, "Wait here," she commanded, leaving Ricky in the living room as she disappeared into the kitchen. Otto was sitting on the couch, but Reggie disregarded him as he did her.

Ricky made certain Reggie was gone, before stepping forward. Otto was slumping on the sofa, one leg strewn over the arm of the chair he was sitting in, flicking through channels without so much as pausing to see what shows he was passing up.

"I should thank you," he spoke up, Otto made no acknowledgement, "I mean, you get rid of Tornado…"

"Twister," Otto muttered.

"Whatever. You get rid of the _loser_ and I take Reggie. I get what I deserve," Ricky said, clearing his throat, "We all do. Lighten up, I know he was your good friend, but is he really the type of person you want to continue associating with? After the way he took advantage of your sister?" Otto shifted slightly, his frown deepening. Ricky shrugged, "Who knows, you and I could get along nicely." He turned, making his way into the kitchen in search of Reggie and wondering what was taking her so long. Otto lifted his hand over his shoulder, middle finger standing alone, his lip curled in an annoyed sneer.

"You'll get what you deserve alright, I'll make sure of it…" he muttered.

* * *

END A/N: So Lars is plotting revenge on Ricky and bringing Twister along for the ride. But _what_ is up with Rocket boy? What does he have up his sleeve? I recently watched the eps. Ice Queens, which is Cleo's first appearance, and I just sat there saying, "Wow, Twister's cousin is a real bitch." 

OH, yes, and more for Warina-kinomoto: first of all, she pointed out that the meaning of "gringo" is more appropriately translated as "foreigner" (jovhyz confirmed Gringolandia and that it was more of a Mexican thing). Also, Miss Warina-kinomoto pointed out that in the previous chapter I put 'con mi', when it would have been better as 'conmigo'...I don't really know where she's pointing this out to, but wherever it was, it was the direct translation from my online-translator type thing. I guess the deal with that translator online is that it gives a 'direct' translation without calculating in modern day dialect, slang, that type of thing. I would like to thank both Warina-kinomoto and jovhyz for their offer of helping me with checking translations, that type of thing, but I don't know if I will take them up on the offer...maybe I'll send them the chapter ahead of everyone else so they can read over it...but then that would spoil the story for them....

ACK! When I finish the last part of The Affair of the Kiss, then I have to dissapear and work on my recess fics for a short period of time (maybe a week or two). But don't despair, this doesn't end with the next pt. It continues on, in my head I have it all planned out...maybe I'll write a christmas story for the big jolly day, as a present..._maybe_. Don't tell them it's already in your head, because then they expect things...yup...hehe...

Thanks for reading, please excuse any grammatical and typing errors, and I would love for everyone to rush to the review board and post, post, post!

We ain't got no place to go, let's go to the punk rawk show...darlin' take me by the hand, gonna save the punk rawk band! - MXPX

HEAVEN IS A HALF-PIPE!


	7. The Affair of the Kiss pt4

A/N: Part 4. Okay, so I know I said it would be up...um...yesterday...I was wrong, things got in the way, like this part got real long.

Thanks to the reviewers: KCluvsM1, why yes, I am the writer...I guess I should know that, shouldn't I? Peachy15, why thank you. TheAngelOfAnarchy, nice name change RavenForever! iluvdanbyrd, yes he should. salsipuedes, thanks much(bloody...hehe...). Warina-kinomoto, sorry, this chapter doesn't sport as much Spanish...my email is under my bio, but if you can't access it, I'll e-mail it to you. VUWildcat, yup, its good I made him so vile and unloveable. Now I feel bad for him. sea, yup, it is a good song. Thanks. CSIforensicnut09, well, Reggie doesn't really hate Ricky yet...

That's all? Hun...was there anything I needed to say...

ENJOY!

* * *

The Affair of the Kiss pt. 4

Reggie smiled as Sammy greeted her. It was early that Sunday morning; he was busy on his laptop putting together the layout of Reggie's Zine. She flopped onto a nearby chair, watching as he, with dexterous movements, shifted some pictures and typed a slight blurb. He glanced over to her, where she sat slumped and miserable.

"How was your date?" he asked. She moaned, closing her eyes tightly. "That bad, huh?"

"Oh, jeez, Sammy, it was horrible! You have no idea! We went to a French restaurant; I didn't know what the hell I was eating…I shoved most of it in my napkin when I thought he wasn't looking. He talked about himself the whole time! He spoke in French most of the night, I had no idea what he was saying," Reggie cried, leaning back, "I mean…I knew he was a shoobie, but I didn't know he was such a…such a…"

"Kook?"

"Sammy. He's a friend," Reggie scolded, "I just…he was…oh, well, I don't know. I'll be seeing him again next Saturday, and hanging out with him all after school next week. Joy," she rolled her eyes, stating sarcastically, "Maybe he'll ask me to go steady…yea."

"Reggie," Sam said, turning to face her, "What is going on? Why are you and Otto and Twister all not talking? Why are you going out on a date with some guy you don't want to be going on a date with? You forget, Reg, I'm not a dummy. I've noticed things are a little off!" Reggie frowned, sighing.

"You're right, Sammy. We haven't been fair to you, leaving you in the dark," she conceded, chewing her lower lip thoughtfully, "I guess I should start from the beginning…remember when I hadn't gotten _the_ kiss, and Otto came up with that brilliant plan?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded, "I recall. I was supposed to kiss you; it blew up in our faces. You went way aggro on us…it wasn't a pretty picture, until you got the kiss from some mysterious…"

"Twister."

"What?"

"Twister kissed me." For a moment Sam stared blankly at Reggie, before bursting into laughter. Reggie crossed her arms over her chest, "It's not funny!"

"You're serious?" Sam cried, gasping for air, "But…I mean, it's Twister. He kissed you? Oh man…like, on the lips? Holy…and you liked it?"

"Sammy!"

"Sorry…I'm sorry," he started, and then his face fell, "Oh. That must be why Otto…and Twister…did you tell him?"

"No," Reggie exclaimed, "And Twist didn't either. I don't know who did. Cleo mentioned Lars…"

"How did Lars know? How did Cleo know?" Sam demanded, a little hurt.

"Huh? Oh, I think Twister must have told Lars, though I don't know why he would do that. And Cleo was there when I told Sherry and Trish."

"Sherry and Trish know too?" Sam pressed, looking downcast, "And you didn't tell me."

"Oh, Sammy," Reggie gasped, wide-eyed, "I'm sorry! I…just, everything's been way whacked. I, just…well, I like, didn't know what to do. Not to mention, I didn't really have a choice. Sherry and Trish cornered me after math when I called out Twist's name as an answer to the teacher…"

"You said Twister's name in class?" Sam raised an eyebrow, "Reggie, are you feeling alright?"

"No. I don't know. I can't figure out what's wrong with me. Sherry said that I was probably craving a boyfriend. So, in order to stop acting so lame about Twist, I had to get a boyfriend. That's why I'm dating Ricky…" Reggie trailed off, pulling her legs up to her chest and laying her head down, "But it's not working real well. Why do I keep thinking about Twister, Sammy? What is up with me?"

"You liked the kiss?" Sammy asked, a little in disbelief.

"Yes, I did," Reggie mumbled, "But…man, it's _Twister_."

"You think maybe there's a slight possibility that you…"

"No. It's _Twister_, Sammy, that is in no way possible," Reggie paused, wrapping her arms around her legs, "And then there's what Otto said before I went on my date."

"Reggie, I think you better tell me everything, from the beginning, don't leave anything out," Sam told her. She sighed, nodding.

"Okay…it started with the kiss…" Reggie began, slipping into the story and careful not to leave out any minor detail. When she finally finished, Sam simply sat back, shaking his head in stun.

"You and Twister…the whole idea has me bugging," Sam stated, clearing his throat, and rubbing his eyes tiredly, "Reg, have you ever stopped to wonder if maybe the reason you can't stop thinking about Twister is a lot simpler than you 'craving a boyfriend'?"

"Sam, it's _Twister_."

"I know it's Twister. But think about it. Besides your brother, who knows you best? Who's always been there for you? Who do you go to for a shoulder to cry on, an ear to hear you out? Who tells you lame joke after lame joke relentlessly in an attempt to cheer you up when you're in the most depressed of moods? Who goes out of his way just to make you smile?" Sam questioned and Reggie buried her face in her knees, "Who do you know you can turn to and trust? Who gets on your nerves, but you still want to be around and hang out with?"

"But I always thought Twister was like a little brother to me," Reggie argued, "And, he's Otto's best friend!"

"Reg," Sam pressed, "It's like Cleo said, you have to follow your heart. So, your mind is screaming at you there is no possible way you could want anything more than a friendship with Twister. And let's face it I understand that. But what is your heart saying?"

"Like I told Cleo, _I don't know_!"

"Yes you do, Reg. And you're fighting it with every fiber of your being. When have you ever felt this way about a guy? So…gnarly and bogus at the same time?"

"Look, Sam, if you're saying I've never had a crush before then the memory part of your brain is still in bed! Recall Trent at all…?"

"Painstakingly."

"Okay, so I acted like a goober…but still, that was a definite crush, and that was nothing like this!" Reggie sighed, shaking her head.

"Well, maybe, because this is a lot more serious than that was? And maybe, because Twister already knows everything about you, so you have no problem being yourself around him."

"Sam, it's _Twister_."

"Okay, Reg, let's play a word association game," Sam leaned back, gaining a questioning look from Reggie, "Just go with me on this. I'll say a name, and you tell me the first thing that comes to mind, just shout it out, don't even think about how weird or strange it may sound. Clear your thoughts," Reggie sighed, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes tight, "Let's start with something simple…Raymundo."

"Dad."

"Okay…Tito…"

"Shack."

"Otto."

"_Jerk_. Hey, this is kind of fun."

"Reggie!" Sam scolded, "You have to keep your mind clear. Ready?" Reggie nodded. "Okay, Sherry."

"Big mouth."

"Trish," Sam said between snickers.

"Big air."

"Sam."

"Good friend."

"Thank you," Sam smiled, "I would have expected nerd or…oh, sorry…um, clear your mind. Let's try, Lars."

"_Bigger_ jerk."

"Cleo."

"Sweet."

"Twister," Sam said, drawing in his breath. Reggie flushed, turning a deep red. She was silent. Her eyes opened and met Sam's.

"Sammy…"

"Yes, Reg."

"I like Twister," she whispered shakily, "I _like_ Twister. Oh, this is bad…this is really bad…"

"Why?"

"Because it's _Twister_, Sammy! How could I like Twister? He's my friend! He's my brother's friend…well, my brother's ex-friend…ugh!" Reggie slapped her forehead, "That little lame-o! Oh man," she slumped, burying her face again, and whimpering, "I like Twister, and…and Twister is avoiding me because of Otto."

"Well according to Otto it's because of…"

"I know Sammy! But I don't know what he meant!" Reggie slumped, head lowered, "Nothing is making any sense. How can I like Twister?"

"Well, you tell me. He's a nice guy, I guess…he's not really all there…he did rank number one in that poll, took me by surprise! He can be a real jerk sometimes…"

"But he can be sweet too," Reggie interrupted, "Like when he first kissed…well, never mind."

"Tell me about it," Sammy prodded, leaning forward, "Tell me what happened."

"Well…I was feeling a little bummed over the kiss thing, and it was lunchtime. I went to the vending machine for a soda and he was there. He bought me one…I tried to give him my money, but he wouldn't take it," Reggie reminisced, chewing her lower lip softly and blushing. She hadn't really gone into the details of the kiss before, "I said thanks and we turned to leave. He called my name, and I turned back, and he kissed me," she frowned, "He asked me if it was right…all I could say was thanks. And then he left."

"Wow, that's uh…polite of you," Sam said, searching for words, "Um…"

"Otto is being such a jerk about this. He's acting like it's something personal, like Twister kissed him or something! I don't get what's eating him, why Otto's being like this. If he'd left well enough alone…"

"You would never of had this conversation with me and…"

"Or that second kiss with Twister."

"What second kiss with Twister?"

"Oh…did I only tell you about the first one," Reggie chuckled slightly and Sam raised an eyebrow. She sighed, "After Otto hit Twist I took him to the kitchen to clean up the cut…and we kissed."

"Puts a whole new meaning to kissing the boo boo better," Sam commented.

"And…" Reggie continued, then her eyes widened and she slapped her forehead, "It's my fault."

"What?"

"It is my fault. Otto's right, it's my fault Twister is avoiding me! I said…oh, I didn't mean it at the time, I was just so mad and confused by Otto!" Reggie moaned, on her feet pacing, "Oh man…oh man…"

"What happened? Reggie, what did you do?" Sam demanded, standing and grabbing her by the shoulders.

"I made a comment, about the kiss…I said it was just a stupid kiss, that it didn't mean anything! Oh, Sammy, it did mean something, a lot to me! I just, I don't know what it meant to Twister, and maybe I'm overreacting," Reggie cried, taking a deep breath, "I'm overreacting, that must be it. There's no way Twister feels anything for me…I mean, dude, it's Twister. I mean he just did it to cheer me up, right? Right."

"I don't know, Reg," Sam mumbled.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, after everything you said," Sam began, "After the way you blew up…and then the way you say everything happened. I think there was more of a motive behind Twister's kissing you."

"Damn," Reggie murmured, falling back to the chair.

"Reggie, what do you really feel about that kiss? What did it really mean to you? Whatever Twister thinks about it doesn't change what you think about it, right?"

"Well…" Reggie stammered, "Um…I…I've never felt that way when a guy kissed me before. It just…everything felt so different. I felt so alive, and…and I thought I must be dreaming, or something lame like that. And then I opened my eyes and there was Twister, and you'd think I'd be upset or bummed, or something! But I wasn't…I was happy, and a little confused," Reggie shook her head, "I miss Twister. I miss my brother. I want everything to be fine again! Why did Twister have to kiss me?"

"Maybe because he wanted to?" Sam suggested and Reggie narrowed her eyes at him, "Well, Twister's not a kid anymore, he has hormones like every other…oh boy. Have you tried telling Otto any of this?"

"What? No," Reggie frowned at her shoes, "What good'll that do?"

"It can't hurt. You have to look at logic. Why is Otto mad? Maybe if you talked to him…told him how you felt, he'd see reason. Maybe his feelings are a little more complicated than you're seeing."

"I guess you're right," Reggie sighed, "I'll talk to him later tonight. We got to work on the Zine!"

-0-0-

Lars stopped mid-Ollie, noticing Ricky stepping from the Steward house. A malicious smile slid along his face.

"Hey, Ricky, my man," Lars greeted, skating up to the startled young man.

"Lars, is it?" Ricky acknowledged.

"I just wanted to chat," Lars grinned, "You're on the hockey team at school now, right?"

"Yeah, I made the team. There was no doubt…"

"Which means we're on the same team. Hey, I wanted to give you some serious props, snaking Reggie Rocket like that," Lars said ecstatically, "I mean, I had my eye on the girl myself…she is fine."

"Yes, she is attractive," Ricky concurred, smiling disarmingly. He had a weakness for praise, Lars could tell that.

"I know. How did you pull it off? There are so many guys out there that have been trying," Lars pressed, "You got to tell me your secret. My little bro, for instance, the lame-o dork that he is, has been trying for the girl for the longest time. I thought she was starting to go for it, too, but then lately…"

"I guess it's no secret that I don't get along with your brother," Ricky said in a low voice, "Apparently, neither do you."

"Especially ever since he jumped down my throat…throwing accusations in my face. That's the last time I ever help that ungrateful shit," Lars scowled. Ricky nodded.

"I think you and I could be good friends. You want to know the truth, about why I'm dating Reggie?"

"Lay it on me," Lars encouraged.

"Don't get me wrong, she is a very good looking girl, but her tomboy attitude, and the way she dresses and acts…not really lady like. The real reason I'm dating her is because of your little brother Typhoid."

"Twister," Lars corrected a little more bitingly than he'd intended, he cleared his throat, "Not that I care what you call him. A loser's a loser, right?"

"Yeah," Ricky chuckled, "And he is a loser."

"So you're just dating her because of Twister?"

"Well, I could tell right away how he felt about her. It's so pathetically obvious. I was going to go easy on him, in the beginning, just get close to Reggie, be her friend, and maybe start dating her in a less than underhanded way, if at all. But then he had to outrank me in that damned poll," Ricky seethed, "You must have been a little angered yourself, being outdone by your little brother."

"Yeah, I wanted to pound him," Lars confirmed, "So, that set you off?"

"It wasn't so much that he outranked me, more that he didn't care. That's what made me mad," Ricky growled, "That's when I knew I had to really hurt him. I started with ruining his friendships. I knew Otto would be easy after hearing him in that little diner. And the way Cyclone acted towards Otto, so endearing, I knew it would cut like a knife severing _that _relationship. I just didn't expect it to crush him so, I thought I'd have a little more of a challenge, after our first meeting.

"Reggie was a little more difficult. I never actually thought she'd have feelings for that punk. I spread a few choice rumors, about my "crush" on her, and then I asked her out. I didn't expect her to say 'yes' so easily, but I wasn't going to curse my good luck. Pursuing her relentlessly wasn't going to help my image with the other girls at school that I planned on getting after I was finished with Reggie."

"Finished with Reggie?" Lars questioned, "What do you plan on doing with her?"

"What do you think I plan on doing with her?" Ricky laughed, raising an eyebrow suggestively; "I think at the very least I could get to third base with a girl like that. She doesn't strike me as inexperienced. The overprotective brother is always a tip-off. Wild girls need brother's like him with the jaded notion his sister's really a sweet little angel on the inside who's fragile nature needs shielding from big bad boys like…well…he thinks, like your brother. He doesn't realize the one she needs protecting from is me."

"So you're using her?"

"I don't like to think of it as using. I like to think of it as mutual benefit…I hurt Tempest, she gets to spend time with me. Monday, after school, I'll be asking her to go steady with me. I don't doubt she really enjoyed our date last night; I even gained a goodnight kiss. No woman can resist my charm," Ricky said, posing, "I have to get going. I'm glad we had a chat."

"Yeah, see ya' later, _bro_," Lars sneered, and if Ricky had been paying attention he might have been able to catch the malice in his voice. Ricky turned, slipping into the car parked in the driveway and tearing out down the road. "¿Eh, Twister, usted lo consigue?" (Eh, Twister, did you get it?)

"Yup," Twister called, pulling himself out from the nearby bush, camera in hand, "Cut and print. Aquí, sostenga esto." He shoved his camera into Lars' hands, beginning forward down the street.

"¿Whoa, espera, adónde usted va? (Whoa, wait, where are you going?)" Lars cried, grabbing his brother's shoulder to hold him back.

"Para matar a Ricky. (To kill Ricky)" Twister explained as though it were obvious, then, because that didn't appear to have an affect on Lars' iron grip, "¿Usted no justo oyó las cosas que él dijo sobre Reggie? (Did you not just hear the things he said about Reggie?)"

"Vayamos, lover boy," Lars said, rolling his eyes and dragging his younger brother back up towards their house, "Todavía tenemos que calcular fuera de cómo conseguir Reggie mirar esto. (We still have to figure out how to get Reggie to watch this.)"

"But didn't you hear him?" Twister pressed, and Lars shook his head, scowling, "I don't mean about Reggie! ¡Él va a pedir Reggie para ser su novia mañana después de la escuela! No hay manera que podemos conseguirla mirar esto antes de entonces. (He is going to ask Reggie to be his girlfriend tomorrow after school! There's no way we can get her to watch this before then.)"

"No importa cuando ella lo mira. Hoy, mañana, el día después de que... inmóvil tenga el mismo efecto. Además, tengo planes más grandes para este video," Lars told his little brother. (It doesn't matter when she watches it. Today, tomorrow, the day after...it will still have the same effect. Besides, I have bigger plans for this video.)

-0-0-

Otto sat at his desk putting new wheels on his skateboard. He knew it was Reggie that swung open his bedroom door before she even said anything, so he didn't bother looking.

"I wanted to talk, Otto," Reggie announced, "Can we…talk?"

"About?" Otto droned, placing the screwdriver back on his desk.

"Twister," Reggie mumbled, and Otto spun to face her, eyes narrowed, "Um…it's funny, how I had everything I was going to say planned out, and I can't remember any of it…" she cleared her throat, nervously rubbing her arm.

"If you're here to speak on behalf of my _ex_-best bro…"

"Otto, how can you talk about him like that?" Reggie snapped, "He's been your best bro since…since before you could even pop a wheelie on your tryke."

"Whatever…"

"You don't even bother asking me how _I_ feel about all of this! You jump down Twist's throat, you _hit_ him, and tell him to stay away from me, and don't even bother asking what I want!" Reggie cried.

"Okay, Reg, what do you want?" Otto demanded, leering over the chair at her.

"I…want…" Reggie sighed, chewing her lower lip, "I want you to stop acting like a jerk for one thing! You don't have any say in my love…er…I mean…um…social life."

"Social life. Yeah. Right. What do you care? It's just Twister." Otto snarled.

"Look, maybe I…maybe I…I kind of like Twist," Reggie stammered. Otto raised an eyebrow. "Okay, I really like Twist. I didn't realize…but…I mean…it's really weird, I know, but he's all I've been thinking about lately, and if you really cared about me then…"

"I do really care about you, Reg," Otto spat, "I don't have anything else to say, alright? My beef's with Twister right now, not you."

"Well your _beef_ is wrecking everything for everyone!" Reggie hissed, slamming the door shut on her way out. Otto shook his head, resuming work on his skateboard for a moment, before sighing and smashing his screwdriver down.

-0-0-

Lars was in a fairly good mood that Monday afternoon when he all but rammed into Otto as they were both making their ways through the halls of school. He decided, grabbing Otto by the collar, maybe he would let the shrimp off with a warning.

"Back off me, Lars," Otto snarled. But of course, the Rocket boy had to speak first.

"You need to watch where you're going," Lars growled, "I was walking here."

"Yeah, sure, because I was only the innocent bystander that got knocked into by your fat headed self!" Otto snapped.

"Why I oughta…" Lars began when Ricky passed them by.

"Hey," he greeted, "Fighting amongst yourselves for table scraps? I'll see you guys later." Lars sneered, tightening his grip on Otto's shirt.

"I hate that guy," he hissed, "I think I hate him more than you. And the way he's whomping on Twister…well…I mean, I don't care that he's picking on _Maurice_, it's just not fun whomping on him when someone else already has…and that lame-o bastard, RIcky is going to ask Reggie to go steady, did you know that, shrimpo?"

"Hm…" Otto's brow furrowed, as he looked up at Lars who'd expected more of an angered reaction, "You really hate that guy? I think I can work with that…you see him after school at hockey practice, right?"

"What? Yeah. What's it to you?"

"Nothing really…want to make a deal?"

-0-0-

Twister slumped on the bench at Madtown, staring out miserably watching the other kids racing along the various ramps. Sam had called and invited Twister out, and Mrs. Rodriguez, Twister's loving mother, all but shoved him out the front door. _You haven't been getting enough sunlight, _she'd said, _go play with your friends, Maurice._ Half his friends weren't even talking to him.

"Twister, you have to ride the board," Sam called, coming to a halt at the bench, wind milling slightly, before falling forward onto the seat, "I know you're upset about what's going on between Reg and Otto and everything…"

"What do you know about it?" Twister questioned, looking up at Sam a bit wide-eyed and shocked.

"Reggie told me everything," Sam mumbled, "And I mean _everything._"

"She sure likes telling people," Twister muttered, "Too bad she didn't tell Otto before he blew up…"

"Twister, you kissed Reggie! Do you know how big this is? How epically big?" Sam cried.

"No. But Otto isn't happy about it," Twister replied. Sam rolled his eyes.

"Twister, he misses you," Sam told him, "All he talks about lately with me is you, or Reggie and you. He has malice in his words, but sadness in his tone."

"Speaking of Rocket boy…" Twister muttered, looking pointedly to the entrance of the skate park as Otto skated in, hitting the ramps.

"This is your chance," Sam exclaimed, "Go talk to him."

"Excuse me? I'm out of here," Twister argued, "He doesn't want to see me or anything. He's so mad, he'll hit me again!"

"Twister…look, he's heading to the vending machines…go talk to him!" Sam cried, falling to his knees, "Please, Twister, please go talk to him! This rift in your guys' friendship is driving me insane! If he says your name one more time I'm going to shove a pencil in my ear to severe my hearing!"

"Jeez, calm down, Squid," Twister said anxiously looking around, "Okay, okay, I'll talk to him." He rose, grabbing his skateboard and heading towards the vending machines where Otto had disappeared towards, Sam lagging behind.

Otto stood at the machine, hitting one of the buttons, frowning as it read 'sold out' and hitting another one.

"Otto?" Twister started, but Otto didn't bother looking, just scowling and turning to leave, "Wait! I just wanted to talk! One minute, just one minute, please…you have to hear me out…" Otto frowned, leaning back against the vending machine and looking to his wristwatch. "Oh…okay…um…" Twister stammered, "I…uh…look Otto…I know I kissed your sister, and I know how mad you are about it. I didn't think…I just…it just happened. Oh man, Otto," Twister sighed, running his hand over his helmet, "I don't why I did it. Well, that's not true, I do know why I did it. I like Reggie, Otto…she's just…she's never been like other girls to me, and then suddenly she's the only girl to me, you have no idea what that's like!

"I kissed her because I wanted to. Because I wasn't thinking, I was just doing…and maybe I should have thought. If I could go back, I would do it again, but I would do it differently. Otto, you're my best bro, and I should have told you about it, or talked to you about how I feel for Reg. I want things back to good with us…I want to be best bros again…and if that means…if that means I have to stop feeling this way about Reg, I don't think I can do it," Twister frowned, staring at the ground, "I can't stop feeling this way about her, Otto, but I can stop being around her. I just want to be friends again. I don't even know what she wants or if she'd even feel the same about me. But if it bothers you so much, then…then I won't ask her about it. I'll put aside how I feel; even if I can't forget about it, even if it hurts. Our friendships important to me. I'm sorry." Twister walked forward, past Otto towards the entrance, "I guess that's all I had to say," he mumbled as he walked away.

"Well," Otto exclaimed, clapping his hands together, "It took you long enough, and I didn't expect it to be so dramatic and touching..." Twister paused, Otto walking past him, patting Twister's shoulder as he passed, "Okay. Now that that's over and done with, let's go get rid of golden boy."

"What?" Twister questioned, staring confusedly at Otto, then looking to Sam, "What's going on?" Sam shrugged.

"Dude, you still have to get the girl, right?" Otto persisted, stopping at the exit and looking expectantly at the two gaping boys.

"I missed something…" Twister said..

"Don't look at me, I'm as confused as you!" Sam cried. Otto rolled his eyes.

"I said," Otto began in exasperation, throwing his hands open in front of him for emphasis, "Let's go win you my sister! Can we go _now_?" Twister and Sam exchanged confused looks before following Otto from Madtown.

"But Reg is with Ricky," Twister protested, "He's going to ask her to be his girlfriend."

"It's cool, bro," Otto assured him, "I've got everything under control. Ricky's taken care of."

"But how do I tell Reg how I feel…and how do I know she feels the same about me…and…"

"Will you chill, Twist?" Otto snapped, "I've got a plan. When has your best bro ever let you down before? Trust me."

"So, we're best bros again?" Twister asked a little nervously. Otto slung his arm about Twister's shoulders.

"Don't you remember? Best bros forever."

-0-0-

Reggie sat at the dining room table of the Rocket house with Sherry, Trish, and Cleo gathered around. Sherry was spreading the latest rumor, excitedly talking about new couples, and the latest fashion trends, and who recently pulled the latest fashion don't. Reggie tried to pay attention, but she couldn't concentrate, munching thoughtfully on the snacks they had laid out along the tabletop.

"Anyways…Jenna said that I had the coolest hair style she'd ever seen and wanted to know where she could get one…" Sherry was saying, filing Trish's nails. There was a knock at the side door, and Sherry fell silent. "Maybe that's Ricky," she squealed excitedly, "He is supposed to be meeting you after his practice, isn't he?" Reggie sighed, half-heartedly making her way to the door, and hoping it wasn't Ricky, the last person in the world she wanted to see. She was surprised to find Lars standing there.

"My cousin here?" he asked.

"Estoy aquí, Lars," Cleo called.

"My parents want to talk to you…you didn't happen to see my brother either, huh?" Lars inquired.

"No," Reggie answered, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Hey, Lars," Sherry greeted and he nodded her direction, "You're on the same team as Ricky for hockey, right?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Where is he?" Reggie asked, less than eagerly, but still curious.

"Let's just say…he's a little stuck in the boys' locker room," Lars said, grinning malevolently.

"Don't tell me you trapped him in the boys' locker room, Lars," Reggie growled, raising her eyebrow, but the older boy simply grinned, shrugging innocently.

"I didn't trap him anywhere. He can leave _anytime_ he wants…" he chuckled, before looking to his cousin, "Let's go Cleo."

-0-0-

Ricky stood dripping wet, having taken a shower after practice. He looked around the locker room, holding a towel up around his waist.

"Hello?" he called tentatively, "Where did my clothes go? Anyone? Is somebody there?"

-0-0-

Lars was nearly bowled over when Otto shoved his way in the kitchen, crimson red covering his hand. He grabbed the nearest dish towel, holding it up to his hand and making a great show of wincing and drawing his breath in, pained.

"What did you do to your hand?" Reggie demanded.

"What? Oh, this is nothing compared to Twister's face," Otto spat, and as if on cue, Sam came in, huffing and heaving.

"Twister looks real bad," Sam gasped, "He needs help." Reggie narrowed her eyes at Otto.

"What did you do, Otto," she snapped, before rushing out the door. The other's stared wide-eyed at the two newcomers. Sam stepped in.

"Oh man am I hungry," he exclaimed, "Fries!" he grabbed one of the potato wedges, glancing around, unable to find what he was searching for, eyeing Otto's hand, before swiping the fry through Otto's 'blood' and eating it heartily. The others stared at him in varying degrees of shock and disgust. Otto and Sam looked to each other confused a moment, before a grin spread along Otto's face and he held his hand out to the others.

"Ketchup?" In a rush, everyone was out the door.

-0-0-

"Twister," Reggie called frantically, rushing through the yard to come to a halt. There sat a young man on the Rocket's half-pipe. He looked up when he heard her, and they held each other's gaze momentarily. Reggie ran her fingers through her hair, shoving strands anxiously behind her ear. "Twister…you're not…" she gasped, as he stood.

"Not…what?"

"Otto," Reggie growled, "He totally psyched me out! He had me so worried about…" she fell silent.

"What did he tell you?" Twister asked, "I mean, he just said to wait out here and he'd get you…but man, you look like…"

"What?" Reggie demanded, stepping forward slightly, "I guess this means you and him are friends again."

"I have no idea what's going on in Otto's head," Twister mumbled, taking a step forward as well, "Reg…I have to tell you something."

"What?" Reggie whispered, staring up at him anxiously.

"That kiss…I kind of…I know you said it meant nothing. That it was just a stupid kiss…"

"Twister, I…"

"It's okay, Reg. That's how you felt about it…and that's okay. It was special to me, Reg, it was my first kiss. And I'm glad it was with you, even if it didn't mean as much to you, because…because I like you, Reg."

"I like you too, Twist."

"No, I mean, I _really_ like you," Twister pressed and Reggie smiled.

"I _really_ like you too, Twist."

"Are we talking about the same kind of like?"

"Will you two _kiss_ already?" It was unmistakably Otto's voice that cut through the dramatic silence and both Reggie and Twister turned startled to find a little audience. Otto stood in the door, Sam beside him. Sherry, Trish, Lars, and Cleo stood around semi-circle watching with awed silence. Twister blushed and Reggie laughed slightly. They turned back to one another.

"Can I…I mean, kiss you that is…?" Twister said.

"You didn't ask the first two times," Reggie pointed out.

"Oh, I guess I didn't…"

"I'd like very much for you to kiss me, Twister," Reggie whispered.

Hesitantly, Twister touched Reggie's hip, drawing her forward, and brushing his lips against hers. Cheering broke out amongst their friends, as they deepened it, Reggie wrapping her arms about Twister's neck, and he lifted her up slightly, closing the gap between them.

"Go Reg!" Sherry called.

"Nice," Trish commented.

"Ah, Maurice, caliente! Muy, muy, caliente!" Cleo cried. Otto simply grinned triumphantly, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning in the doorframe.

"You planned this," Sam accused, "You planned this all along."

"Not _all_ along," Otto said defensively.

"I don't get it…but you hit Twister…you seemed genuinely mad. Why did you act the way you did?"

"Somebody had to make sure those two didn't get in way over their heads. And yes, I hit Twister, because I _was_ mad at him. He kisses my sister and doesn't tell me. That's something you tell your best bro," Otto argued, "And I guess I got a little caught up in the moment

"Le dejaré tener la muchacha este vez, mi hermanito," Lars told his brother, exchanging a thumbs up with Otto and saying, "Don't think this changes anything, Rocket dork, this was a one time deal," before heading towards the Rodriguez house.

"You did good, pequeño surfer muchacho," Cleo whispered to Otto as she followed after Lars.

"How could you plan this?" Sam demanded, "And not tell me?"

"I'm sorry I left you in the dark there, Squid, but I didn't plan this, not entirely…there were some things that they had to do on their own," Otto argued, "I just wanted to make sure that…you know…our gang wasn't in trouble because of a little kiss." He frowned, seeing the young blonde man making his way up the walk and pausing upon seeing Twister and Reggie. Otto patted Sam's shoulder before he made his way over, grinning up at Ricky, who looked down to him. Ricky was dressed in a shirt that was way too small for him, and pink tie-dyed Capri pants. He was barefoot and out of breath.

"But…what…?" Ricky babbled, "I thought…"

"You know, dude," Otto began, "If you had just been like every other prick, trying to hit on my sister, maybe I'd have gone easy on you. But not only did you have to try and tear up team Rocket, you had to drag my best bro into it. And that doesn't fly well with me. It hurts, doesn't it? Get used to this feeling, because if you keep messing with my friends, I'll make your life a living a hell." Ricky frowned, shaking his head.

"You think you've won something but you haven't," Ricky muttered, "I'm not scared of you. My problem was with Monsoon, not you. This isn't over." He shook his head, turning and heading towards his house.

"Bring it on, dude," Otto called after him, "And his name's Twister! You better remember that, bro, you did lose to him after all! Oh, and nice clothes, man, who'd you mug?" He grinned, turning back to the others who were chatting with Twister and Reggie, hugging them excitedly, "Grab your gear, guys, and let's go shred Madtown. I've been bored out of my mind for the past weeks because two somebody's had to take their time figuring out their feelings!"

"Sure thing, Otto man," Twister replied, then, completely serious, "Hey, who are those two somebody's?"

The gang walked together, Otto and Sam rolling on their blades, Reggie carrying her own skates, and Twister holding his board. Sherry and Trish had departed to wait for Cleo, agreeing to meet up at Madtown later.

"Now, first things first," Otto was saying, "Twister is my best bro, and Reggie is a part of team Rocket. Just so that's clear. It's always going to be me and Twister, or me and Reggie! Got that? No couples against Otto and Squid team-ups!"

"Sure whatever," Reggie groaned, rolling her eyes.

"And now for some ground rules," Otto announced.

"Ground rules?" Twister scrunched his nose.

"Yeah, rule number one; no kissing or 'making out' within my visual range. Can you handle that? Number two, no mushy boyfriend/girlfriend moments, got it? Number three, no holding hands in public…"

"Otto," Reggie spoke up, "If I want to hold my boyfriend's hand, I think I will!" Twister paused and the other's looked at him, "What's wrong, Twist?"

"You called me your boyfriend," he stated, "It was weird is all…weird in a good way, I mean! Hey, can I tell people you're my girlfriend?"

"No, Twister, you have to keep it a secret," Reggie joked, and then added, as he obviously wasn't getting the sarcasm, "Yes, you can tell people!"

"I can…cool…" he mumbled, grabbing the nearest person walking by, "Hey, this is my girlfriend," he told them, pointing to Reggie, who slapped her forehead.

"Come on, Twister," she chuckled nervously. He followed, looking to some people sitting on a bench.

"She's my girlfriend," he said, startling them, and then nodding to some guy walking past, "This is Reggie Rocket, my girlfriend." Reggie rolled her eyes, grabbing Twister's collar and dragging him forward.

"Will you cut that out?" she cried.

"But you're my girlfriend," he pouted, and she smiled.

"I guess I am," she conceded, pulling him into a kiss.

"Hey, hey," Otto cried, "That's it…you're breaking rule number one! Cut it out! Get a room, you two! UGH!"

"This is your own fault, Otto, you know that, right?" Sam told him.

"Shut up, Squid."

* * *

END A/N: So what'd you guys think? Otto was being sneaky to get them together? Well, more just forcing them to figure things out. And poor Sammy had no idea what was going on. But Twist and Reg are together. But what about the video footage? What'll Lars do with that?

The next part of this story is called 'A Dim Light in the Dark'. Twister is having a few doubts about his relationship with Reggie, and after a few harsh comments from people around school and town, and overheard conversations from Reggie, Otto, and Sam, Twister goes to Sam for help. Will everyone like the new improved Twister, or find themselves nostalgic for the old one? Oh, also featuring Reg and Twist's first date!

Of course, that won't be for a while as I have Recess fics to work on.

Please excuse any grammatical and typing errors. Now, go and review. NOW! Err....or whenever, just please _**REVIEW**_!

Thanks for reading. Check you later!


	8. A Dim Light In The Dark pt1

A/N: Yay! It's here, it's here! And I have officially begun neglecting my Killing the Daisies fanfic. Don't worry, SteffieWitter96, I don't blame you. It's my obsessive nature and flighty personality. Anyhoo...

Thanks to the reviewers: SteffieWitter96, TheAngelofAnarchy, warriorgoddes, KCluvsMI, VUWildcat, CSIForensicnut009, peachy15, NeptuneLily, Otto'sbabegurl, iluvdanbyrd, VampireSephy, RoxySurferGurl623, jovhyz, Warina-kinomoto, WritingonPaper, and (deep breath) Amy. Damn, 16 reviews. That's the most I've ever gotten for one chapter of any story! I'm so happy! Sniffles...you like me...you really like me...or my writing. Meh, whichever. I'm glad you all like how it ended The Affair of the Kiss, but I think most of you are confused on the role Otto played, soI think I'm going to update a little piece featuring the conversation between Cleo and Otto, which should give some insight on his part in getting Reggie and Twister together, and maybe have a little Cleo/Otto hinting...hehe...

Dun, dun, DUN! Drumroll, please, for the dragon herself is about to speak! About this story: We are going to get a little deeper into the character that is Twister. I do not, for one, believe that Twister is stupid. IF _you_ believe Twister is stupid, you're obviously not paying any attention to the series. I hope, in my story, to give a little reasoning behind Twister's slow-wittedness, as well, as my theory on his background. You know what's interesting, one of the things that's mentioned in the series is that Twister has a bed-wetting problem. Despite popular belief, and jeerings towards those with this little issue, it actually tends to be tied to psychological (or emotional) problems. Would you like to rebuke me? My cousin had a bedwetting problem (not gonna say which one, because I have several cousins, sixteen on my dad's side, and numerous unknown ones on my mother's), so I know what I'm talking about. It's just something to think on. Another thing that will be gotten into in this story is Reggie's character, and her own insecurities, that will be tied to the tape and what happens with Ricky.

Ah, I'm done.

For now.

ENJOY!

* * *

A Dim Light In The Dark

Chapter 1:

In the upstairs room of the Rocket household, everything seemed to be in an uproar. There was a great deal of commotion, as the small room of Reggie Rocket was quickly being upturned in a frenzy of different garments ranging from blue jeans, to khaki pants, to tank tops and tees, even a flannel button down wool shirt. Shoes were scattered along the floors, and the owner of all these different clothes was buried in the closet throwing even more onto the ever growing pile. Three girls watched from a safe distance, standing with owlish looks, blinking every now and then but openly staring. Cleo, Trish and Sherry, Reggie's good friends, were astonished.

"I have nothing to wear," Reggie finally declared, leaving the still half-full closet and looking at the mess on her bed. Her hair had been hastily pulled back into a ponytail and she was casually dressed in gray sweatpants and a beige t-shirt she'd "borrowed" from her younger brother, Otto, that was emblazoned with the words 'Grass Skirts Are In With The Waves', and detailed with a design of a surging swell and a hula girl on a surfboard. Despite the mess, Reggie plopped onto her bed, pouting and whimpering, "I can't go anywhere. I have nothing to wear."

"Reg, you need to chill, girl," Trish finally found the voice to speak up. For almost half an hour they'd watched Reggie tear up her closet in search of an outfit, and they'd all been left speechless.

"Yeah. How can you say you have nothing to wear? Look at all these great clothes," Sherry attempted to reassure her, stepping forward to sort out some of the garments. Her eyes lit up and she cried, "Oh, can I borrow this? I have the perfect mini…" she fell silent, receiving a stern glare from Trish, "Sorry."

"What's wrong with all these clothes?" Trish asked, coming to Reggie's side.

"He's already seen me in all of them," Reggie pouted. He, being Maurice 'Twister' Rodriguez; Reggie's boyfriend as of two weeks. Not to mention her lifelong friend and her brother's proclaimed 'best bro'.

"Then go naked," Cleo said in an even tone that suggested all seriousness.

"I don't doubt Twister would like that," Sherry put in, giggling giddily. Reggie rolled her eyes, slumping to her floor, knees drawn up to her chest, burying her face in her hands.

"I have nothing to wear!" she moaned.

-0-0-

Meanwhile, across the street at the Rodriguez house, Twister walked down the hallway, opened a door to a room, entered, walked around, left, entered another room, rummaged through some things, left, finally coming to stand at the top of the stairs, absently running his hand over his crew cut red hair.

"Mom!" he moaned, "_Mom_! Where's my hat?"

"Lo puse lejos. Usted no lo está usando su fecha. Usted es el vestir agradable. (I put it away. You are not wearing it on your date. You are dressing nice.)" Sandy cried in reply, coming to stand at the foot of the stairs looking up wearily to her son; her hand, clutching a dishtowel, rested on her hip.

"¡Well, no voy dondequiera sin mi hat! (Well, I'm not going anywhere without my hat!)" Twister retorted stubbornly, "¿Ahora donde es?"

"Todo lo que pido es que una noche usted parece agradable…"

"Mom…"

"Es una tarde especial, usted es primera fecha, usted es primera novia…"

"Mom."

"Y Reggie es una muchacha tan dulce, ella merece salir con un muchacho agradable vestido…"

"_Mom_!"

"Bien. Está en el cuarto del lavadero," Sandy finally relented in a haggard sigh.

Twister grinned, nearly leaping down the stairs, pausing to give his mother a quick peck on the cheek.

"Gracias, mom," he told her cheekily as he left for the laundry room and quickly found his red and yellow striped hat, slipping it on his head and racing back up the stairs. Sandy had headed back towards the kitchen, shaking her head in annoyance.

Twister's room was occupied by Otto and Sam at the moment who were trying not to be bothered by the disasterous mess, and he nodded to them as he reentered, adjusting his hat. Sam was on Twister's computer, which was mostly installed with video editing programs; Premier, Final Cut Pro, Director, Flash; and had a VCR connected to it through the USB port. Sam was playing solitaire, one of the only games on the computer. Otto was messing with Twister's stereo, a nice sound system with a CD changer that could hold up to eight discs. His musical collection was massive, to put it mildly, spanning the genre-verse; from mostly punk rock, to techno, to alternative, to ska, to emo, to heavy metal, to rock, to jazz, to blues, to bluegrass, to country, to Folk, to Latin, to hip hop, to rap, to classical; he had it all. Well, save for a Backstreet Boys CD he'd found at school and used as a coaster, he was lacking in the 'boy band' area.

"So, how do I look?" Twister asked and both boys gave him a once over.

"Same as you did before you left the room," Otto told him, before returning to the CDs.

"Dude, I have my hat on now," Twister pointed out.

"You're really going to wear that?" Sam asked, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

"It's my hat, I always wear my hat," Twister cried defensively, his hands coming to clamp down tightly on his headwear.

"I don't mean the hat," Sam said brazenly, "I mean the outfit." Twister frowned, looking down. He was wearing faded blue jeans, about three sizes too big for his thin frame, slightly slipping down his hips, and a white t-shirt that had obviously been through the wash several times, he had brown sneakers on his feet, DC's. There were several black, blue, and yellow plastic bracelets around his wrists, as well as a watch, Sam doubted Twister could tell time on, with a thick black studed band, and his usual shark tooth necklace was dangling down his chest.

"I was gonna wear a hoodie, too," he informed Sam; who simply raised a bemused eyebrow.

"He looks fine, Squid," Otto spoke up, popping a CD in the player and turning it on to a particular track. Familiar drum rhythms and chord riffs blared from the speakers.

_"Everything has fallen to pieces…earth is dying, help me Jesus…we need guidance, we've been misled…young and hostile, but not stupid…_"

"I don't like this band," Sam commented, feeling slightly snubbed.

"We're not listening to techno again," Otto snapped.

"Hey," Sam argued, pushing his black-rimmed glasses up on his nose haughtily, "It's a scientifically proven fact that listening to techno stimulates the mind; particularly in the mathematical..."

"Yeah? Well it happens to be an Otto-tifically proven fact that listening to Blink makes me happy, particularly in the non-whomping department," Otto interrupted, gaining a disgruntled glower from the burlesque blonde.

"Otto, I will have you know..."

"Blah, blah, blah...if we're fucked up, you're to blame!"

"Dudes," Twister cried in exasperation, "What's wrong with my outfit?"

"It's fine," Otto sighed, "Sam's just nitpicking."

"Why would he pick nits, and what the hell are nits, and what do they have to do with my outfit?" Twister demanded.

"I'm sorry I said anything," Sam moaned, "Jeez, what's the big deal anyways?"

"What's the big deal? _What's the big deal?_" Twister repeated, screaming, "I'm going on a date with Reggie, what the hell do you think the big fucking deal is?"

"Maurice?" Sandy screeched from the hallway angrily, "¡Esas palabras sucias no deben venir de su boca! Elimínela, o entraré allí y la hago para usted. (Those dirty words should not be coming from your mouth! Wash it out, or I will come in there and do it for you.)" Twister winced.

"Sorry, mom," he called fretfully, and the boys were silent for a moment.

"Dude, it's just a date," Sam broke the quiet, "You hang out with Reg all the time."

"It's not just a date," Twister spat childishly, "It's our first real date." Sam and Otto's mouths both formed silent 'Oh's',

-0-0-

Reggie stood in front of her full-length mirror. She was dressed in dark blue jeans now, carpenter style, slit on the sides partially to expand the bottom cuffs, covering her bare feet up to the toes. Sherry had chosen a particular white long-sleeved button down blouse for Reggie, with a light pink design around the edges. The sleeves first button was left undone, and they came down well past the palm of her hands. She had on several silver rings, glistening on her fingers, a beaded choker around her neck, along with a long silver chain with a small circular silver pendant on the end. She was wearing small dangling earrings in her bottom lobe holes, and several silver studs in her other multiple ear holes, a little silver hoop was slid around her top right ear hole.

Sherry stood, inspecting her handy work while Cleo sat on the bed and Trish busied herself by reorganizing the once neat room. Reggie tugged at the end of her shirt, smiling slightly.

"Maybe I should wear a dress," she commented, studying her image, "Or a skirt." The girls all froze, staring blankly at their good friend.

"Are you feeling well?" Trish inquired.

"What?" Reggie breathed, brushing at a loose strand of hair.

"You don't wear dresses, remember?" Sherry said.

"I know…I just, want to look nice is all," Reggie told them, thoughtfully chewing her lower lip, "I don't think I even own a dress, though…or a skirt for that matter."

"But I do," Cleo exclaimed, eyes alight, clapping her hands together and springing to her feet, "Just wait, I'll run across the street and…"

"Cleo," Sherry snapped, "Stay." Cleo frowned, her face falling.

"But, I…" she stammered.

"No," Sherry told her, "Sit." Cleo snorted lightly, falling back to the bed and crossing her arms over her chest. Sherry came to stand beside Reggie, pushing a few loose purple strands behind the fidgeting girl's ears, "What's gotten into you, Reg? You've never worn a dress or a skirt for any guy, no matter how much he wanted to see you in one. Twister probably doesn't even care and…"

"I know," Reggie interrupted in a low whine, "It's just…it's our first official date…what if he realizes he's dating…well…me?"

"I know he's a little slow, Reg," Trish commented, hooking the last shirt on a hanger, "But I think he knows who he's going on a date with."

"That's not what I mean," Reggie spat, "I mean…well…guys like when their girlfriends wear little skirts, and slinky dresses. I know from experience. That's why my boyfriends don't usually last…they dump me because I'm not girly enough…they say it's because they feel like they're dating 'one of the guys'. I don't usually care, but Twister is different. Oh god, Twister is different…I actually care about the guy I'm dating! I actually care about what he thinks…which, isn't a lot, but still…"

"Chill out, girl," Sherry clucked, "It's cool."

"Reggie, my cousin knows what he's getting into. I doubt he expects you to come to the door transformed into a prime example of femininity," Cleo spoke up, "You ever think that maybe…just maybe…he likes you because you're not like that?"

"Yeah, Twist isn't like those other guys you've dated," Trish put in, "Unlike them, he knows what to expect, he knows what you're really like. And unlike them, it's the reason he asked you out, not because you're pretty and easy to hang out with and hoping you'll wear some dress and go to second base with him."

"Yup. So quit fretting, and loosen up," Sherry agreed, stepping forward and undoing the bottom two buttons of Reggie's blouse to reveal a bit of her midriff, and the top few buttons to show off the deep set tan of her collar bone and lower neck in contrast to the white of her shirt. Reggie's face contorted slightly and Sherry raised an eyebrow, asking, "What's wrong?"

"I'm going on a date with Twister. I'm dating Twister. He's my boyfriend, and I'm going on a date with him. I think I'm gonna be sick," Reggie mumbled, bringing her hand to her mouth.

"Well, hold it in," Sherry told her, "You'll mess up your make-up."

"It's unlady like to vomit," Cleo informed Reggie.

-0-0-

Otto kicked a few things on the floor to the side, plopping down on Twister's bed and leaning back to look at his best friend. Twister was busy fixing his hair, applying a little more gel. He frowned, his stomach churning and he placed his hat back on his head.

"Where you going to take her?" Otto finally asked. It had been bugging him since he first heard about the date from a very excited Reggie. Twister froze.

"Take her…" he repeated in a dazed mumbled, "Um…"

"Don't tell me you don't know where you're taking her," Sam cried, "Twister!"

"I do to!" Twister snapped, "I just…I wasn't sure. I wanted to talk to her about it, _alright_?"

"Oh, jeez, Twist," Otto groaned, "You're going to get there and ask _her _where _she _wants to go? Lame. She expects you to know where you're going to take her! Haven't you ever been on a date before?" Silence. "You've never been on a date?"

"Not really…no," Twister replied sheepishly, "Okay, never. There's just never been a girl I've wanted to go out with before. Well, okay, I've _always _wanted to go out with Reggie, but…"

"_What_?" Otto perked at that, "You've _always _wanted to date Reg? And you never told me?"

"Well…I…"

"I always tell you when I'm crushing on a girl," Otto cried, "You're supposed to tell me! How long _have _you liked my sister? Answer now!"

"Dude," Twister protested.

"No…never mind, it's too late."

"Otto! I never told you because…well, she's your sister!"

"I know she's my sister, which is all the more reason you should have told me. And best bros tell one another these kinds of things…"

"I'm sorry, Otto. I didn't think…"

"Didn't think how I'd feel, huh? I'm really hurt, you know?"

"I should have gone with the girls," Sam groaned, 'You two are such babies."

"Shut up, Squid!"

Twister frowned, placing his hat back atop his head. His stomach knotting. He was going on a date with Reggie. He was going out with Reggie. She was his girlfriend.

"Dude, Twist, what's wrong?" Sam demanded, eyeing the redhead with concern.

"What if this doesn't work out?" Twister asked, "What if she decides it's too weird, or she doesn't really like me that way, or…"

"Calm down, Twist," Otto snapped, "She's known you practically your whole life. She's going out with you because she likes you that way, and she's not about ready to change her mind. Jesus, Twister, with all the mushiness you two have been exuding in the halls at school, I think this is the surest thing in your whole damn life."

"I think I'm gonna hurl," he moaned, before sprinting down the hall to the bathroom, Otto and Sam following him with wide eyes, as he slammed the door shut.

"Get it out of your system now, dude, so you don't blow chunks on the date," Otto called after him. Sam rolled his eyes, before clutching his own stomach.

"If he throws up," Sam whimpered, "I'll throw up."

-0-0-

Reggie sat on her bed, staring anxiously at the clock on her side table. Sherry, Trish, and Cleo had all left, and there she sat, alone. She heard the door downstairs open, and stood slightly, straining to hear. Footsteps plodded up the steps, and her door swung open. Otto stood there, arms crossed over his chest. He looked Reggie over.

"Well?" she questioned indicative of her look and taking a deep breath.

"Why are your lips all shiny?" he asked.

"It's lip gloss," Reggie explained, offended, then with a sly grin, "It's strawberry flavored, you think Twist will like that?" Otto rolled his eyes.

"That's disgusting, Reg," he moaned, leaning in her door frame, "At least you look semi-normal. Twister says he'll be here around seven."

"Thanks, Otto," Reggie mumbled, leaning back on her bed. They both startled when Ray, they're father, slinked up to them.

"Hey, kids," he greeted.

"Raymundo," Otto grinned, 'When'd you get in?"

"Just now. What are you all dressed up for, Rocket girl?"

"I told you before, dad," Reggie pressed anxiously, "I have a date."

"Oh," Ray drawled, nodding, "I remember. So, that means you're missing out on Rocket Family Film Fest tonight?"

"Yeah," Reggie breathed softly.

"Then it's just you and me, Rocket boy," Ray told Otto, clamping a heavy hand down on his son's shoulder.

"Yup, let me get my slacker clothes on," Otto exclaimed, racing down the hall. Ray looked to his daughter.

"How late will you be out?" Ray asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I don't know," Reggie shrugged, "I'll probably be back before one."

"Just so you don't stay out all night," Ray said, smiling, "You look nice, princess." He turned, making his way down the stairs. Reggie smiled, running her finger along her bottom lip to smear the gloss slightly.

-0-0-

Twister began down the stairs to his front door, when his mother stopped him. He grinned sheepishly at her, his hands shoved in the kangaroo-style pockets of his hooded sweatshirt.

"¿Dónde usted la está tomando?" she asked.

"I don't know, yet. Probably the amusement park, and somewhere to eat."

"¿Cómo usted está consiguiendo allí?"

"I was thinking we'd walk…"

"Oh, no, no, no. ¡Usted no está haciendo que caminata de la muchacha en una fecha!"

"Why can't we walk? I guess we could take the bus…"

"Usted pedirá Lars si usted puede pedir prestado su coche."

"What? No way! I don't want to ask Lars for anything, _ever_, but especially not for his car…major _no way_!"

Sandy scowled, grabbing Twister's arm and dragging him back up the stairs. He struggled slightly, but knew better then to protest.

"¿Usted está preguntando a su hermano, y no deseo oír otra palabra sobre ella? ¡No estoy teniendo mi toma del hijo una muchacha una fecha y no la fuerzo caminar!"

"Okay, mom, okay," Twister moaned, as they came to a halt at Lars's bedroom door. Sandy knocked before swinging it open. Lars lay on his bed flipping through magazines, he looked up at them peevishly.

"¿Que?" he demanded, trying to keep the anger at the sudden disturbance from his voice as his mother was standing right there. She gave her younger son a nudge.

"Lars, can I borrow your car for the night," Twister asked as though the words were painful thorns pricking his mouth, sighing heavily.

"Nope," Lars answered quickly.

"See, I asked. Can I go now?" Twister pleaded with his mother.

"Lars, deje a su hermano pedir prestado su coche," Sandy pressed, holding Twister's shoulder tightly to keep him from leaving.

"No way, ma, he only just recently got his driver's license. No way is he taking out my wheels. And I don't have to either, because I paid for it, so it's mine," Lars argued. Sandy crossed her arms over her chest, glowering at him from down her nose.

"Is that so? Entonces quizás usted puede comenzar a pagar el seguro en sus el propios también," Sandy said sternly, crossing her arms over her chest. Lars groaned, rolled off his bed to grab his car keys, and tossing them to Twister, who caught them with ease.

"You wreck my car, I wreck your camera," he snapped, and Twister nodded, then as an afterthought, "And stay out of the backseat."

"Ah…conseguido lo, bro," Twister said, pocketing the keys and turning to his mother, "Can I leave now? I'm going to be late."

"Bien. Sea caja fuerte cuidadosa, de la impulsión, y tenga un buen rato. ¿No permanezca fuera de más adelante que... la opinión... medianoche? (Alright. Be careful, drive safe, and have a good time. Do not stay out later than…say…midnight?)"

"Mom," Twister groaned.

"Bien, las uno."

"We might stop for ice cream," Twister grinned.

"No más adelante entonces las treinta uno."

"Gracias. Te amo, mom," Twister said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek, and waving to his brother, who simply sneered, "Later much, Lars.." He sprinted down the stairs, taking the steps three at a time, and all but slamming the door shut behind him. He paused at the sidewalk, giving Lars's car a sidelong glance. He pursed his lips, considering for a moment, then shaking his head and racing across the street to the Rockets.

Twister rarely knocked on the Rockets' door. In fact, he never knocked. He'd known them his whole life, he knew exactly where the spare key was, his parents each had keys to the Rocket house, and even then Ray had shown Otto and him how to jimmy the back door open, and was well aware of the fact he could climb the half-pipe up to Reggie's window, a fact he'd dwelled on more often those days. He'd always just burst into the house, and was never given a second look from the occupants. He was family.

But standing on that porch, nervously hoping the cologne he'd accidentally spilled on himself in the bathroom and couldn't wash off completely didn't reek as bad anymore and that after throwing up the three rinses of mouthwash had gotten the taste of vomit out of his mouth, Twister found himself unable to open that door. He felt if he did, he'd be an intruder. That it would break some moral code. He took a deep breath, reaching forward to the doorbell, and pulling his hand back as though it burned.

"Calm down," Twister commanded himself, "It's cool. You know Reg, it's cool. Just calm down, remember to breathe, and knock." He raised his hand to the door, closed his eyes, chewing the inside of his cheek to bleeding, and banged three times, before his arm fell to his side and he stuffed his hands back into his sweater pockets. The porch light came on and with a whoosh, the door swung open.

"Twister?" Ray asked, squinting at the awkward young man standing on his doorstep, "Why are you knocking? The door's open."

"Hey, Raymundo…I…um…" Twister stammered, "Well, I just…"

"Otto didn't tell me you were coming over, to watch movies huh? I'll get him," Ray turned to call for his son.

"No," Twister cried, louder and sounding more like a bark than he'd intended. Ray looked back, startled, and Twister chuckled nervously, "I mean…I'm not here for movies…I'm here to see Reg."

"Oh," Ray said, frowning slightly, "I'm sorry, Twister, whatever you came to see Reggie about is going to have to wait until tomorrow. You see, she's got a date tonight."

"I know, Raymundo…that's kind of why I'm here," Twister said sheepishly, grinning at the older man, cheeks flushed. Ray's face dropped, and his eyes seemed to glaze over. He stood perfectly still, silent. "Um…Raymundo…Mr. Rocket…hello?" Twister called, waving a hand in front of the man's face. Ray didn't answer, so Twister stood studying the peeling paint on the wall, swinging his arms nervously. There was movement in the living room as a form slunk up behind Ray, Reggie's face peered out from behind her father.

"You're here," she managed, through a careful smile, blushing, "Hi."

"Hey," Twister mumbled, "You look…well…different," he began, then adding quickly, "In a good way! Different in a good way! Um…you look pretty…well, you always look pretty…I mean…your hair is…and your clothes…and you look nice…or better than nice…what's a word that means better than nice? Um...muy excelente." He became quiet, rubbing his neck and staring at his feet.

"Done?" Reggie questioned. He nodded. "Okay. Let's go. I'll see you, dad," she said, giving Ray a kiss on the cheek and slipping out around him.

"Alright, I'll see you two later," Ray mumbled hazily, shutting the door. He turned, as though entranced, heading up the stairs and passing Otto on his own way down.

"Where you going, Raymundo? I'm ready to watch movies," Otto said.

"I'm sorry, son, I think I may be more tired than I first thought. I just…you'll get a kick out of this one, I thought I just saw your sister head out on her date with _Twister_," Ray said, breaking into laughter, "Great one, huh?"

"Uh, dad," Otto began, his brow furrowed in worry, "Reggie's date _is _with Twister. They're kind of an item now. Dude, where you been?" Ray frowned, his face blanched.

"I just let my little girl walk out the door on a date with Twister Rodriguez," he stated, before turning to race down the stairs, "Don't worry, princess, daddy's coming!"

"Chill out, Raymundo," Otto cried, maneuvering to block the older Rocket's path, "It's cool. It's just Twister. They been sweet on each other for awhile, and I'm totally down with it. He respects her and everything. You've known him his whole life, why you sweating it?"

"That's just it, Rocket boy, it's _Twister_!"

"Chill, dad, it's all cool. Reg can handle herself. Now let's watch some movies."

* * *

END A/N: Okie, dokie. That's was fun, right? I'm probably going to have the next chapter up tomorrow. So fast, huh? But then I swear I'm going to go try and work on Killing the Daisies. It only has about four more chapter left! Or was it three? I lost my outline...

About the Spanish I didn't translate. It's not incredibly important that you know what they're saying...but if you really want to know, I'm sure jovhyz and Warina-Kinomoto will be more than happy to help you out. Speaking of Warina, I need your e-mail if I'm ever to contact you. I tried e-mailing you once, didn't work out very well...

A note on Sammy. HE DOESN'T LIKE BLINK?!? (--that song is blink182, The Anthem, just in case you're all wondering--) Truthfully, he strikes me as the techno nerd/j-pop type as opposed to the punk rock type. Oh, and those programs I mentioned on Twister's computer: Premier I believe is Adobe? Or is it Corel...or neither? Maybe Adobe bought Premier...no wait, Adobe bought Bryce. I believe both Director and Flash are Macromedia, and hell if I know where Final Cut Pro is from...oi...Premier and Final Cut Pro are more of the video editing programs, Director and Flash are better for making, well, animation and websites. Though,I would say that Dreamweaver is _the best_ for website building, and I prefer Director over Flash, but only because I know the program better. I know, I know, people tell you; once you know Flash you'll never even second-glance Director again, but I don't know, I like director and all it's tedious-ness...I'm sorry, I'm off on a tangent again, aren't I?

Sam mentioned a program in the first story, A Simple Kiss, called InDesign, I don't know if I discussed it. InDesign, or more appropriately, Adobe InDesign is kind of like QuarkExpress or PageMaker, only better. What are all these programs, you ask? They're just layout programs, you'd mostly find used for making newspapers or magazines. You can put in textboxes, images, captions, the works. But none of you care, huh? You've all stopped reading. "She's talking about graphics programs, flee!" I think those Twister and Sam are easy to write, because I'm a lot like both of them. I'm a computer nerd, with an art background. Or more, an artsy gal with a computer hobby...er...that sounds dirty...

Um...thanks for reading. Please excuse any grammatical or typing errors. _**REVIEW**_! Shoot for one hundred!

_I can't stop my bogeys, they get out of control! I know that you don't care, I just want you to know...whoaoa!_ - Hashpipe by Weezer.


	9. A Dim Light In The Dark pt2

A/N: Okay, so it's a little late...but I actually went out and socialized yesterday, so you can't blame me. I had Dim Sum with my friend. She's Chinese, and she took me to this little Chinese restaraunt and she ordered things in Chinese! It was a lot of fun, even if all the food did taste strange to me...it was good (most of it at least). I like to try new things so that I can say "I've done that!". You should always try new things, every opportunity you get. I also went shopping. I bought a shirt with Rita the Riveter on it (I'm a huge feminist) that says "Chicks Kick Ass", and a Marilyn Monroe shirt, its black with her image in hot pink. All I need now is a hot pink layered skirt, and I have my guitar earrings (I bought guitar earrings with little pink electric guitars on the end) and I'm set. I also bought dragon earrings. My friend, the Chinese one, doesn't have ear holes; so I told her when she gets back (she's going to study abroad in China for five months) I'm taking her to get her ears pierced and I'll get second holes in my ears. Sounds fun, huh?

Thanks for the reviews guys:

SteffieWitter96: It's a good thing you didn't totally forget about the sequel. Didn't you find that scene a little reminiscent of another story featuring a first date between lifelong friends? It's good that you don't think Twist is stupid...I don't understand why anyone does...

TheAngelOfAnarchy: Don't be so down on yourself. You'll go on a date. There's someone out there for everyone; you'll get married too, and maybe have multiple opportunities to cheat on your husband, and if you do or don't, it's entirely up to you. I don't really have an overprotective father (or anything) in my family. I'm actually the overprotective one. My older sister's boyfriend was afraid of me the first several months they were dating. He thought I was going to beat him up. The library's right down the street from me, but I don't like going...I prefer the bookstore.

VUWildcat: As with any relationship that's changing from a really good friendship to a romantic one, they have a lot of fears that it won't work out and that if it doesn't, their friendship is ruined as well. Of course, their doubts are in their counterpart, as opposed to themselves, which is a good thing, because it meansthey're both confident that whatever the other thinks, they'll be fine with it. Whoa. If that made any sense...

CSIForensicnut09: I'm glad you liked it. Check my bio; and I am a writer...just...and...unaccomplished one. If I ever get my head out of fanfics and start working on my other stories again...

You all rock, as always.

ENJOY!

* * *

A Dim Light In The Dark

Chapter 2:

Reggie paused at the end of the Rocket driveway, smiling at Twister who looked shyly to her. They were quiet, unsure what to say or do. Up until that moment, they're official boyfriend/girlfriend activities had involved Twister walking her to class and sometimes carrying her books. And every now and then, they'd indulge in a kiss.

"So…where are we going?" Reggie asked, clasping her hands behind her back. Twister ran a hand over the back of his neck.

"I was thinking…well…the amusement park," Twister said, "If that's cool. Unless you're hungry, then we could grab some pizza."

"I don't think I could stomach…I mean, amusement park sounds great," Reggie replied.

"Cool." Twister took her hand, leading her down the street. He paused, turning to her, "I know you're used to getting picked up in fancy cars and stuff for dates…but I thought we could walk, if that's okay. I mean, I don't drive very well yet, and it's easier for me to talk when I'm not trying to pay attention to the road…you want to talk, right? Because I could still go grab Lars's car and…"

"It's cool, Twist," Reggie interrupted him, drawing close, "I think I prefer walking. I want to talk." Twister smiled somewhat crookedly, and they began towards the Pier.

They were silent at first, trekking down the sidewalk hand-in-hand. Twister cleared his throat, and Reggie leaned in closer to him. It was a nice night, the sky was clear, and a few bright, twinkling stars could be seen in the black.

"Spring Break has me so stoked," Reggie commented, the silence starting to get to her. It was unusual for Twister to have nothing to say.

"Yeah. My parents are talking about a trip down to Mexico for the vacation," Twister told her. She frowned, hesitating slightly.

"But you'll miss out on Malibu," Reggie stammered, "You and Otto have been talking about it for weeks."

"Yeah, I know. But my parents want us all to go down there. Connect with our Spanish roots, or something like that," Twister shrugged, "Cleo and Lars are already plotting to steal the car and have us all drive down to Cancun for a day, and all other sorts of stuff with our cousins. We can get into so much trouble down there…and our parents won't even notice, they'll be too busy catching up with all our aunts and uncles, and mis abuelos."

"That sounds cool," Reggie mumbled, trying to sound as excited as he did.

"What's wrong?"

"Well, I was kind of hoping _we'd _hang out during Spring Break," Reggie muttered, "It's no big deal though."

"Oh," Twister whispered, then perking up slightly, "Nothings confirmed yet. Maybe I could talk to my parents, and you, and Otto, and Sam, can all come! That would be so awesome. You guys have never been to Mexico!"

"I don't know, Twist…Cancun does sound kind of neat…" Reggie conceded, grinning at him, "But do you really think your parents would be down with that?"

"Maybe…I don't know, but it doesn't hurt to ask," Twister told her, swinging their hands as he spoke, "I could show you guys all sorts of stuff, like where we used to live in Quintana Roo, where I was born."

"Where you were born..." Reggie repeated, a little startled, "That's right. You were born in Mexico. I forget…it's kind of hard for me to remember any time you weren't living here in Ocean Shores."

"Yeah," he agreed, "And when we're there, I could show you all the sites! There's so many beaches too, clear water, beautiful white sand, perfect breaks, and we can go out to the Isla Cozumel and do some serious surfing and jet skiing, and everything! And you want fish tacos, now that's the spot! And the Isla Mujeres, we could go diving and see all the fishes…"

"You better shut up about it, Twist, because if your parents say 'no', I'm going to be very disappointed," Reggie warned him. He fell silent, grinning sheepishly at her, "I'm taking Spanish this year. I think I'm getting better at it," she told him, "Um…me llamo Reggie."

"That's pretty good," Twister told her, and she smiled, "You in the same class as Sam?"

"He's not taking Spanish this year, he's taking French," Reggie sighed, "I'm on my own, well, I guess Otto is taking Spanish this year...but he doesn't take it seriously."

"Sam's taking French? What? Did he give up on Spanish?"

"He said it's a difficult language to learn when you're not completely surrounded by it, listening to it twenty-four seven," Reggie explained, "And the pronunciation was too hard. He said he couldn't get his tongue to roll on the R's, and that it's not worth learning a language if you couldn't say the words properly. I wonder if he knows French and Spanish are really similar."

"Yeah, they're similar, like wine and tequila are similar," Twister commented and Reggie raised an eyebrow in query.

"How's that?"

"Um…well…" Twister stammered, "You'll think it's stupid…"

"Come on, Twist, I will not," Reggie pleaded, "Explain it to me."

"Okay…okay…it's kind of, well…both wine and tequila have alcohol in them, right? And they both get you drunk," Twister went on, "But wine is kind of snooty, with all the fancy bubbles and fizzing and funny flavorings; like French is kind of snooty and funny. It's stuck up. But tequila is straight up, strong, and it kind of has a kick to it. It wakes you up, real fast. Like Spanish, it's honest, it doesn't need to sound fancy. You drink wine in little sips, but you drink tequila in shots. Wine and French are both kind of sophisticated, penguin suit, formal dress, party deals that nobody really has fun with. And tequila and Spanish are kind of rougher, it's all about fiesta, and bailar, and cantar…" he trailed off, his cheeks flushed. He didn't know how else to explain it so that it made sense.

"You know, I like that," Reggie said, and he smiled slightly, then she eyed him reprovingly, "But this whole analogy; you're not speaking from experience with these drinks, are you?"

"Uh…no," Twister whimpered through teeth, his cheeks reddening, then meekly, "Have I ever told you that the legal drinking age in Mexico is sixteen?"

"_Twister_!" Reggie scolded.

"And Lars did turn sixteen two years ago…"

"Oh, I don't believe you…"

"And we were kind of bored one night while our parents were visiting our aunts and uncles…"

"I don't think I want to hear anymore."

"And it was just us and some of our cousins, Roberto, Hugo, Rafael…it was only once…well, twice," Twister mumbled, shrugging. Reggie shook her head, and they were silent again. But it was more of a reproachful silence, that Twister felt the need to break, "If you go down there with us, I could buy you a drink." Reggie slapped her forehead, smiling despite herself, "Let me hear more of your Español," he prodded.

"Um…I don't know…okay…uh…yo estoy camino con mi novio," she attempted, and he covered a snigger, "I said it wrong."

"It's 'caminando', Reg, and you really don't need the 'yo'. But that's fine," Twister told her, "¿Hm…qué puedo decir a usted en español? ¿Así pues...ah...usted tienen gusto de su novio?" Reggie smiled softly.

"Mm…si," she whispered in reply.

"Bien. ¿Cómo estas?"

"Um…bien. ¿Y tu?" she questioned, chewing her lower lip.

"¡Muy, muy, muy bueno! Tu parece bonito esta noche," Twister mumbled carefully, and Reggie's cheeks flushed.

"Gracias…I think," she replied, "Was that good?"

"Yeah, your pronunciation is good. It sounds funny, though…I'm not used to hearing you speak in Español…"

"And my accents not as good as yours," Reggie agreed, "More? Um…donde estamos vamos?"

"¿You mean, adónde vamos? ¡Espero que tu tenga muchos de diversión esta noche, porque he sido tan nervioso! Sé que voy a tener un buen rato porque…" Twister began, and Reggie's eyes went wide.

"Whoa, wait," she cried, trying to step in front of him and place a hand over his mouth, "I can't understand you! You're going too fast…" Her shoe caught on the sidewalk, and she tripped, stumbling backwards and Twister shot forward, one hand wrapping around her waist, the other holding her arm. She blushed, as they stood there in that awkward position. Their eyes met.

"Estoy cayendo en amor con tu y puedo no poder parar. Tu puede tener que casarme o nunca podré llenar esta necesidad de estar con tu," he breathed softly, and the corners of Reggie's lips turned up slightly.

"That's pretty," she whispered, "What does it mean?"

"Um…" Twister's cheeks turned a deep red, and he released her quickly, "Nada…I mean, it's not important…I'll tell you later."

"Oh, okay," Reggie mumbled, and they began walking again, "I like when you speak Spanish," she commented, taking his hand once more, "Why don't you speak it more often? It's almost like you're ashamed…" He lowered his head and she trailed off, "Are you? Ashamed?"

"No," he snapped, then biting the inside of his cheek, "In case you haven't noticed, there's not a lot of Latinos living in Ocean Shores. You have to go to another district to find other Hispanics. Me and Lars have been the only Spanish speakers at school most of our lives. It's only been until recently, since I started at OS High that I've met anyone else that speaks Spanish, and they're either gringos taking Spanish classes and can't speak it very well, or the Spanish teachers, and then there is the Latino crowd, but they all live on the other side of the city and take those buses to school…"

"Oh," Reggie mouthed, "I didn't realize…"

"They don't want to hang out with me, anyways. They call me mexicano blanco," Twister continued.

"What's that?"

"White Mexican. Because of the way I dress, act and talk, and the people I hang out with," he explained, looking meaningfully to Reggie . She understood, he meant her, Otto, and Sam, "And because I live in Ocean Shores. It's not Ocean Bluffs, but then it's not downtown L.A. either." He sounded bitter about it, and it bothered Reggie. She'd never heard anything about him having any problems at school besides his grades, which gave her the impression Otto didn't know about it either.

Twister had always been popular, both him and Otto, their entire academic careers. He was kind, sweet, good-natured, and could shred better than anyone aside from his best bro; which made him well-liked by his peers. His lack in wit never held him back, and he had always gained attention wherever he went. It was weird, and somehow, elevating, to hear about these previously secret problems. He'd always smiled, was always cheerful, no matter what. Reggie hated to know that his life was a little more miserable than she'd imagined, but the fact that he was telling her meant they're relationship was reaching a new level. She kind of felt sick that it made her happy.

"It still doesn't explain why you don't speak Spanish," Reggie pressed, bringing her free hand up to push loose baby strands of hair out of her eyes, "You used to speak Spanish all the time, I remember."

"It's nothing, really, alright?" Twister said, obviously growing uncomfortable. He studied the pavement, noting a hardened piece of chewed gum pressed into the cement and coated in dirt, "Kids teased me at school, so I stopped."

"What kids?" Reggie demanded, eyes narrowed.

"Everyone."

"But Otto stuck up for you, right?" she asked, and Twister was silent, she groaned, "Don't tell me Otto teased you too."

"No," Twister mumbled.

"Okay, good. I don't have to whomp him when I get home," Reggie sighed, then looking up to the solemn redhead, quickly surmising, "But he didn't stick up for you."

"It's stupid, but I think that hurt more than their teasing," Twister said. He stopped suddenly, looking around in confusion, "Where are we?" Reggie's nose scrunched, and she turned around as well, scouring the dark area in an attempt to get her bearings straight. She rolled her eyes, tugging Twister back the way they'd come.

"We walked right by the turn," she giggled, and Twister offered her a crooked sort of toothy grin.

"Sorry. I guess I should have been paying attention."

"It's cool, we were both sort of out of it," Reggie pointed out, "It's nice, being able to have a good conversation with someone on a date for once."

"Didn't you talk with the other guys you dated?" Twister asked, then, his face contorting oddly, "I don't want to know what else you did."

"Oh, shut up," Reggie moaned, "I've just never been so comfortable on my dates, before."

"That's good, right?" Twister asked.

"Very good."

-0-0-

The Pier was alight with tiny colorful beads of luminance from the bulbs decorating the amusement park. The Ferris wheel, the carousel, the many roller coasters, were all brightly lit. Strings of lights were hooked from concession stand to prize booths, hooked to long poles in the middle of the walks. Both Reggie and Twister had been to the amusement park countless times before, but something felt different about the place that night; it looked different, smelled different, the air tasted different. It all seemed brighter, cheerier, livelier, better.

"Let's hit the Lightening Express first," Reggie declared, grabbing Twister's hand and pulling him through the crowd; weaving in and out of the mass of shoobies and sparse locals. They found their way to a ticket booth, and Twister proudly paid for the all-day wristbands, and grinned broadly as the woman behind the counter snapped one around Reggie's wrist and then his.

"You two are such a cute couple," she commented, recognizing them as usual comers to the dockside park. They smiled, waving as they raced to the roller coaster boldly proclaimed the fastest in California. They nearly ran into the familiar blonde man standing with a less familiar blonde woman. Twister automatically scowled, but Reggie placed a placating hand on his chest, smiling pleasantly.

"Hi, Ricky," she greeted the young man, he nodded to her, letting a carefully even smile slide across his face.

"Reggie," he said, sounding slightly surprised at seeing her and calculatingly happy all at once, and Twister squirmed. The young man was oily, in fact, it was surprising he didn't slip and slide around from how oily he was. He was a snake, and a charmer at the same time. And he had some vendetta against Twister. Once, he'd used Reggie as a ploy to hurt the innocent young man, and Reggie was still unaware of this fact. She was still friends with Ricky, even feeling somewhat guilty that she'd dumped him for Twister; even though they'd never officially been a couple, only having gone on one very boring date.

"What are you doing here?" Reggie asked, as the blonde woman turned around and Ricky slid his arms over her shoulders. She was pretty, and overdone. Shimmering make-up on her face, a tight blue dress that left little to the imagination, and two inch high heels. Reggie felt slightly insufficient next to the woman.

"I'm on a date. This is Nicolette," he introduced, "Nicky, sweetie, this is the girl, Reggie, I told you about."

"It's nice to meet you," Reggie said, extending a hand, and Nicolette looked loathe to grasp it, but did anyways, "This is my…boyfriend," Reggie blushed, whispering the word, her hand slightly curling in his shirt, "Twister." Nicolette smiled at the redhead who seemed unable to break his scowl.

"He's cute," she commented apathetically, giving him a once-over, "Are you two juniors at the high school, too?"

"Well, I am," Reggie mumbled, "Twister's a sophomore."

"Oh…that's…cool," she sounded as though it were anything but.

"Nicolette is from New York, that's where I met her. She's in town for the week," Ricky explained, "I'm showing her around . She's used to a more party scene, so you'll have to excuse her. Did you just get here? We should turn this into a double-date."

"I don't think…" Twister began but Ricky interrupted him.

"I know it's imposing, Reg," he said, and Twister winced. The informality of the name was almost like a jabbing insult, "I'm trying to show Nicky a good time here, but I simply don't know as much as the two of you about the area."

"Uh…sure, I guess," Reggie obliged, "I don't see why not," then as a quick afterthought, "For a little while." Twister felt the awnings of a groan, but held it in, pulling Reggie a ways away, and turning on her roughly.

"What are you doing?" he demanded in a harsh whisper that he didn't think Ricky and his date could hear, though he didn't really care either way, "I hate that guy. This is _our_ date. You do not invite people I hate to hang out with us on _our_ date. I didn't invite anyone you hate!"

"I know, Twist," Reggie sighed, "It's just for an hour or so, and then we'll bail on them…Ricky's my friend…"

"I don't know why," Twister muttered.

"And I do feel bad," she continued sharply, "That I ditched him for you. You could play the part of the generous winner, you know?"

"The guy's a slime ball, Reg," he argued.

"But that slime ball is my friend," Reggie pressed, "Do this please…for me?" Twister sighed, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Fine. But you don't get to pull that one on me for a week, got it?"

"Pull what on you?" Reggie asked innocently, pressing a kiss to his lips, "Thanks."

"So, where did you guys want to go?" Ricky asked, slinking up beside the couple. Twister placed an almost possessive arm around Reggie, eyeing the blonde with suspicion. Ricky's arm had dropped from his date, and she was standing next to him almost as though she were an unused accessory; like a bracelet or watch that wasn't being worn.

"_We_," Twister said, stressing the word to emphasize he meant Reggie and himself, "Were heading to the Lightening Express."

"That sounds interesting," Ricky mumbled unenthusiastically, examining his finger nails and looking up every so often at Twister with a snide glower.

"Isn't that a roller coaster?" Nicolette questioned, as though words were a waste of energy. Reggie grinned, her fingers entwined with Twister's.

"It's the fastest coaster in the whole of Cali," she declared, "Hey, Twist, remember that time we all challenged each other to see who could ride the Lightening Express the most in one afternoon?"

"Do I?" Twister exclaimed, his face lighting up and a reminiscent glaze covering his eyes, "Man, the Squid hurled a rainbow that day, dude, I never seen so many colors in a trashcan." Reggie shook her head, laughing at the memory. Ricky raised an amused eyebrow, and Nicolette simply looked disgusted, "It was down to Otto and me, huh?"

"Yeah," Reggie sighed, "I still have my suspicions you dropped out just to end the damn thing and let Rocket boy win."

"Me? No way, never…would I do that?" Twister asked, smiling sweetly, "Are we gonna ride some rides now?"

"Yup! Race 'ya," Reggie challenged, a playful smirk on her lips, and before he could answer, she bolted through the crowd. Twister shook his head, breaking into a sprint after her.

"We'll see you there," Ricky called after them. Nicolette sighed, picking at the nail polish on her thumb.

"You got dumped by her? For that?" she commented a little doubtfully, "I guess he is cute. But he has that lost puppy dog look that grates my nerves…"

Reggie reached the line for the coaster mere seconds before Twister. He climbed up on the gate, restlessly scouring the length of the line, before he jumped back down, where Reggie had leaned back on the same gate, watching him.

"Man, all shoobies," he groaned, "Lame."

"Chill, Twist," Reggie told him, "You're all energy."

"No. I'm all adrenaline, Reg," he admitted, "I was really nervous about tonight, you know. Sam and Otto weren't much help, either." Reggie smiled, slipping her arms around his waist. He clasped his hands behind her back, resting his chin atop her head and watching as the two blondes, unwelcome in his book, weaved through the crowd to the line.

"The wait is so long," Ricky commented, coming up behind them, a dour glare crossing his face briefly upon seeing Reggie held in Twister's arms. Nicolette was less quick to hide her distaste in their stance.

"What can you do?" Reggie asked rhetorically, "It's shoobie season."

"Shoo-what?" Ricky questioned, but Reggie didn't answer, pressing her lips along Twister's collar bone, his cheeks a deep set red.

"I was nervous too," she whispered softly against his skin so that only he could hear.

"Good," he mumbled, then, "Well, it's not good…I mean…well…at least I'm not alone."

"Isn't there, like, a tunnel of love, or something?" Nicolette asked, gazing out at the amusement park snobbishly.

"A tunnel of what…?" Twister repeated, scrunching his nose, "How fast does that ride go?"

"I don't think so…" Reggie answered, glancing around the park momentarily, before resting her forehead against Twister's chest. Nicolette leaned in close to Ricky suggestively playing with the spaghetti strap of her dress and running her tongue lightly over her top lip; but he didn't seem to notice, either that, or didn't really care.

"After this, we could go to the bumper cars," Twister suggested, already formulating a plan to ram into Ricky's car as often as possible.

"And maybe the Sky Torpedo," Reggie teased, grinning up at Twister mischievously and tickling his chin, "This time you won't have your wittle cousin to baby-sit, eh, Maurice?" Twister cringed, squirming away.

"_Reggie_," he cried, flushing. He had yet to even want to go on the Sky Torpedo since he'd lost his little cousin in the crowd nearly four years ago when the ride first opened, "You're never going to let me live that down, huh?"

"Well, you have to admit, it _was _stupid on your part," Reggie told him.

"I've done stupider things!" Twister yelled in annoyance, gaining unwarranted glances from the people around them. He blushed and Reggie just giggled slightly.

"I know, but, it's fun," she whispered, when the attention was off of them once more, "You get so worked up. It's cute." He grinned slightly, sheepishly.

"I guess I do," he mumbled quietly, "But you don't have to bust me about it every time we come here."

"Only with the guys," she told him, as the line moved and they were let in to choose their seats, "Front or back?" Reggie asked, and Twister looked thoughtful a moment.

"Front," he finally decided, grabbing her hand and pulling her to the third booth. They slid in, watching as Ricky and Nicolette chose not to ride, as the blonde young woman was throwing some sort of fit about something. The worker came by, ensuring that the safety bars were all secure, and giving a thumbs up to the man at the controls. An alarm sounded and the car was off, racing along the tracks. People around them were screaming, and Twister looked to Reggie, as they raised their hands in the air on the first drop.

Five loops, three drops, and several tens of jerks later, they leapt from their booth, their hearts pounding, clasping hands, and exited the ride. Ricky and Nicolette were waiting for them, seeming to have calmed, and as they were kissing, assumedly made-up. Twister held Reggie back, watching with evidant disgust at the two teens desperately sucking on one another's lips; Ricky's tongue obviously jabbed down Nicolette's throat.

"Do we look like that when we kiss?" he asked worriedly.

"I don't know," Reggie answered, "I sure hope not…but at least that's not me down there with him."

For a fleeting moment, Twister considered telling Reggie about Ricky's plot, about how the two-faced bastard had planned on using her, how he'd planned on discarding her when he was done, how he thought of Reggie as nothing but a tramp, that would serve his purposes and his hormonal needs and that he never truly wanted to be with Reggie, and had never really liked her as a girlfriend. Something held Twister's tongue, though. He couldn't get the words past some great lump in his throat, much like every other time he'd attempted to tell her. He pulled her to him, instead, brushing his lips against her own tenderly, and when he'd pulled away again, her cheeks had turned a light pink.

"You taste like strawberries," he noted.

"It's the lip gloss," she managed to say, sounding breathless, "Do you like it?"

"Yeah, it's good. But I like how you taste without it better," he said simply, leading her down the exit ramp and clearing his throat loudly. Ricky and Nicolette pulled apart, looking annoyed and ashamed at the same time. Nicolette brushed her hair from her face and attempted to readjust her bra, while Ricky just gave them an odd glance, noticing the serene smile that had fallen across Reggie's face.

"Are you alright?" he asked, though Twister doubted the stuck up blonde really cared about Reggie's well-being.

"Yeah," she said softly, leaning against Twister's arm, "Why didn't you guys get on the coaster?" she asked, trying to draw the attention off herself.

"You saw…" Twister began, but Reggie elbowed him hard in the ribs.

"Nicky's not one for rides," Ricky explained.

"I'm not exactly dressed for it," Nicolette spoke up, leaning forward on the banister, letting her neckline fall down to cup around the bottom of her cleavage, skin milk pale. She lifted her leg, pointing her toes and letting the heavy heel fall back to the ground. Reggie frowned, and Twister just looked away in disinterest, searching for something to occupy their time.

"Come on, Reg," he finally said, noticing the prize booths, "I'll win you a bear." Reggie grinned, tugging him forward.

"Not if I win you one first," she exclaimed and he smiled.

"It's on, Rocket girl," he said in acceptance of the challenge. Nicolette looked expectantly to Ricky.

"I suppose you want me to win you one of those stuffed atrocities," he scoffed, "I'll buy you one at the store on the way home."

"So you're going to be outdone by a child?" she inquired snidely, "Perhaps I should have come with him, since you seem so involved in the one that got away. I thought you were a man, maybe I was wrong." Ricky pulled her forward, clutching her forearm tightly.

"I really hate when you do that," he snapped, "You want me to win you a bear, I'll win you a damn bear."

"Oh, how romantic," Nicolette muttered sarcastically.

The game was simple; three bottles topped in a pyramid. They were handed bean filled bags and had to use them in an attempt to knock the bottles over. Reggie threw her first one and watched it plod the corner of the bottles, failing to knock any over. Twister threw his and watched it sail clear over the bottles. He frowned as Reggie laughed. Ricky took his place between them, throwing his money down on the counter and picking up the first bag. He threw it, and it hit square on. He looked to Twister with his winning smile that made the younger man's stomach knot in frustration.

"Baseball," he explained, as he waited for the bottles to be set up once more, "Since I was four."

Reggie rolled her eyes, throwing the second bag, not caring where it hit as she watched a familiar shadow of determination fall across her boyfriend's face. He took careful aim, throwing the bag and watching the top bottle topple. There was the familiar sound of crashing, as Ricky's three bottles fell once more. Nicolette clapped her hands together, eagerly pressing herself against the blonde young man. Reggie threw her last bag, watching as it plopped in front of the three bottles harmlessly. Ricky crossed his arms over his chest, standing arrogantly beside the redheaded boy who clutched tightly to his last bag and looked miserably at the two bottles still standing as though they too jeered at him. He threw it, watched it smack the two bottles, watched them wobble, and stay standing. Triumphantly, Ricky threw his last bag, uncaring, and two of the bottles fell.

"Two little prizes," the man behind the counter told Ricky, "Or one big medium sized."

"Would you still like a bear, Reggie?" Ricky asked, as Twister skulked away.

"No, thanks," Reggie said, following Twister and taking his hand, silently telling him, "It was one game. We never win at those things."

"I know, Reg. But it's a little hard to rag on them being rigged now that Richard Steward the golden boy just won two prizes in a row," Twister muttered bitterly, "Can we ditch them _now_?"

"You want to take a walk on the beach? Cool down?" Reggie asked, taking his hands in her own.

"Yeah, definitely. And there's no way that Nicolette girl will want to walk on the beach; she might break a nail," Twister decided, frowning at the smug Ricky who made his way over. Nicolette was holding a blue bear in her hands with disdain, and Ricky handed a misshapen brown one over to Twister.

"For being such a good loser," he said sneeringly, patting the younger man's shoulder. Twister looked as though he were considering jumping Ricky and shoving the bear down his throat. Reggie stepped in.

"Was there anything else you two wanted to do?" she asked pleasantly, wrapping her arms around Twister's neck and mussing his hat.

"Get me some cotton candy," Nicolette said to Ricky, "I want some."

"I don't know where the booth is," Ricky began in protest.

"He can show you," Nicolette suggested, looking pointedly to Twister, then tugging at Reggie's sleeve, "Me and her can have some girl chat while you boys get us food. I need to talk to a girl, anyways. You guys can talk about football, or something stupid like that." She drew Reggie away from Twister, who looked pleadingly to her.

"I guess I could use some food," Reggie shrugged to him, "Want to share a bag of popcorn?"

"Sure," Twister sighed, relenting, "Want a soda, too?"

"Yeah, okay. A cola."

"I know," he whispered, briefly kissing her and turning to lead Ricky towards the concession booth, his hands shoved callously in his pockets.

"He is cute," Nicolette stated, "A little strange. You two seem close."

"Thanks…you and Ricky seem…" Reggie couldn't find the word, so she left it hanging.

"You two are still at the cutesy stage," Nicolette informed her, finding a bench and sitting down on it, crossing her legs. Reggie plopped down beside her, drawing one knee up to her chest and digging her other heel into the ground, "He still wants to be all touchy and snuggly, and he still wants to hang out and do things for you. He'll get bored with it eventually, and just want to make-out all the time."

"Really?" Reggie said skeptically.

"It's the way all guys are," Nicolette insisted, picking at the dirt beneath her long nails, "You guys like to compete, does he let you win?"

"No…I don't…"

"_No_? Oh, jeez, you two are in for trouble," Nicolette murmured, "If a guy doesn't let you win…"

"He doesn't _let_ me win, because he knows I can win on my own," Reggie interjected, feeling the prickles of anger at the back of her neck, "We've always competed with each other on even grounds; and if one of us wins against the other, it's because it was a fair win; because one of us did better than the other."

"Okay, okay, sheesh," Nicolette muttered, shifting, wrapping her arms about herself, "I'm only being honest," then after a moement's silence, "Is it hard dating a guy that's younger than you?"

"Only by several months, not even a year…" Reggie mumbled, wrapping her own arms around herself, and shivering slightly, then with a smirk, "He can act real immature sometimes…well…most all the time…what's it to you anyways?"

"Just making conversation," Nicolette replied, pursing her lips.

* * *

END A/N: So...there it is. Isn't Nicolette a bitch? Isn't Ricky a...oh, well, not yet.

How did you all feel about Twister's story, about how he's treated at school by the other Latinos, about why he doesn't speak Spanish around other people aside from his family? Was it believable. Oh, another thing I didn't mention. Yeah, a lot of people theorize that Twister was born in America, and that his older brother was probably born in Mexico. But those same people are going on the belief that he was born in Ocean Shores, and we all know, he moved to Ocean Shores (right? The Rocket siblings bust him on it whenever he gets on Sam's case about being new?). It's my assumption, that he was possibly born in Mexico, and if not, both him and his brother were born in the U.S...as to where, though, that would remain a mystery.

That little conversation about Mexico and how Sandy and Raul are planning a trip down there during Spring Break, may turn in to a Spin-off story from this one (much like A Very Twisted Christmas was...you know, not entirely important to the story line, but fun to write and read all the same). Quintana Roo is apparently a state in Mexico, on the Yucatan Peninsula, near the Gulf of Mexico. It's where Cancun is located. Isla Cozumel and Isla Mujeres are, from what I could tell from my research, two little Islands off the coast of this particular region. I've decided Twister was born in one of the little towns, but the majority of his family is located in one of the bigger cities. I'm actually planning on a story in the future that goes into more detail about his life in Mexico and his moving to Ocean Shores. A little sneak-preview, Twister and Otto didn't get along real well when they first met, Twister was something of a huge crybaby (for reasons I will get into), he wasn't there when the Rocket sibling's mother died instead moving there almost right after the death (give or take a few months), and Reggie always gave him a strange warm feeling inside that he didn't quite understand as a child. I'll also give you the origins of not only his camera, but his shark tooth as well. Two things I don't think they went into in the series.

Enough about the future, let's stick with the present.

I'm going to post the next chapter, maybe later today, but perhaps tonight...after work?

Please excuse any grammatical and typing errors you may have come across, and please _**REVIEW**_! or thou shalt be admonished! (this is what you get for me reading part of the bible...damn bible. Hey! Isn't that kind of like an oxymoron?)

Many thanks.

Thanks for Reading.


	10. A Dim Light In The Dark pt3

A/N: This isn't going to be habit...I really have to go work on my Recess ffs. Anyways...

I told my sister that I would take her to get her first tattoo. She could get hers, and I could get my third one...I'm assuming I'll have my second one by then. Speaking of which, I have to start designing my second tattoo. I'm thinking I'm going to get the oroborus (SP? Snake biting its tail representing that 'all is one') on my back...maybe middle of my lower back. I don't know, though. My mother may want to take my little sister to get her first tat...what do you guys think? I was going to do it as maybe a birthday gift, or graduation gift (as she'd have to be eighteen when its done). Hm...maybe I should get butterfly wings on my back around the oroborus...that would be cool...I'm going to get a dragon on my hand. I have a modified hybrid version of the triple moon symbol with the trinityon the top of my right foot; whichare bothrepresentative of the goddess. I'm going to get a sun symbol, something representative of the god on my left foot...I'm quasi-Wiccan, though raised atheist, for those of you wondering what the hell I'm talking about. People are always shocked when I tell them I have a tattoo. They ask, "what does your mother think?" I tell them, "she paid for it." Which shocks them even more.

There were somethings I meant to mention in the last chapter that I didn't...um...first, jovhyz pointed out that in the Spanish I tend to use "usted" where "tu" would sound more appropriate. I know that 'tu' is a less formal way of addressing another person, however, I was always too lazy and not confident enough in my Spanish to make the change. In an effort to better the sound of my Spanish, I'm gonna go through and change the 'usted's' to 'tu'. Also, that small part in the last chapter, where Twister said something to Reggie in Spanish and I didn't translate it. Yup, not gonna. It's incredibly mushy and junk. It's basically just a proclamation of love. If the Spanish speakers would like to translate it for everyone, be my guest. Also, I haven't settled what happened with Cleo. Is she moving in with the Rodriguezes? I'll talk about it later. Lastly, Reggie doesn't know about what Ricky planned to do with her, and how he was using her. You'd think the boys would be more than eager to divulge that information, but for some reason, they couldn't get the words out. How would you feel if someone told you that some guy was just using you?

I think that's it...

ENJOY!

* * *

A Dim Light In The Dark

Chapter 3:

Ricky held the cotton candy under his arm, walking in silence beside Twister; who was attempting to balance the cola without spilling any. They'd run out of lids at the stand.

"I'm glad Reggie and myself can still be friends," Ricky commented, "There are no hard feelings. She made her choice and I can…"

"You're full of shit," Twister interrupted roughly, "Save the bull for someone who doesn't know what a dick you are. I know what you planned. You couldn't of even gone to first base with Reg, dip wad. And she's not a 'wild girl', she actually is really sweet." Ricky's jaw clenched and he narrowed his eyes at Twister, who simply said, "Tu no es el único con los oídos, jerk. (You're not the only one with ears, jerk.)"

"But you haven't told Reggie," Ricky concluded, "I guess I should be appreciative."

"Don't be. I just haven't told her, _yet_, but I will," Twister hissed, "The sooner I do, the sooner she'll bail on you, and that's a definite good thing."

"Alright. If you feel that's your place," Ricky said, and Twister scowled at him.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Obviously you haven't thought this through," Ricky declared confidently, "Can you imagine, how it would feel for her? How heartbreaking it would be?"

"Knowing you're a dick?"

"Knowing I never wanted her. That I was just using her. Go ahead, tell her. It's obvious how blind you are to her insecurities anyways."

"What are you talking about?" Twister demanded, pausing, having spilt some of the drink. It splattered on the cement, up onto his shoes.

"It's been my experience that tomboys don't grow up to be the most confident women in their sexuality and appeal," Ricky clarified, "Tell her. You'll only hurt her. When she realizes she wasn't good enough for me, attractive enough."

"Fuck you."

"It's true. Don't believe me? Then tell her. In fact, I want you to tell her. Tell her the truth, all of it. How I was only using her to hurt you, how I only planned on taking what I wanted from her than dumping her like yesterday's trash, how she was only a tool to me. That she wasn't feminine enough for me. How many times do you think she's heard that one?" Ricky pressed, leering at Twister, a sickening façade of a smile lit up on his face.

"Fuck you," Twister repeated, continuing, "Stay away from her."

"Or what? You'll tell her what I did?" Ricky laughed maliciously, "You're stuck, little boy. You never were very good at thinking things through anyways, were you? You've got the dull shine of a dimwit in your eyes." There was a splash as the drink dropped from Twister's hand, now clenched in a fist.

"Dude," Twister seethed, stepping up to the unimpressed Ricky, "Don't push me, _bro_." The girls, who'd taken up refuge on a nearby bench, stood when they heard the commotion. Reggie was the first to reach them, not held back by the pain of high heels. She stepped in between the boys, stretching her arm across Twister's chest, and attempting to push him back.

"What is with you two?" she demanded haughtily, "Twister, _what _are you doing?"

"Yes, what are you doing?" Ricky chirruped, eagerly awaiting an answer. Twister shook his head, his eyes brimming slightly with tears of frustration and distant confusion. He didn't know what to do.

"I dropped your soda, sorry," he mumbled, letting the pent up tension falter, still aching in his

muscles. Reggie sighed, rolling her eyes.

"It's cool, Twist, I wasn't dying of thirst or anything," she told him, as he relaxed slightly, stepping back, and holding out the popcorn to Reggie as an almost peace offering.

"Thanks," she whispered, accepting it hesitantly; glancing at Ricky warily. She was missing something, something had happened, had taken place there that she didn't know about and she didn't like that, "We're taking off, Ricky," she said, and Twister perked slightly, "I'll see you around, alright?"

"Certainly," Ricky nodded, watching as Reggie gave a quick good-bye to Nicolette, grabbing the collar of Twister's shirt and leading him away through the crowd.

"I think they're going to the beach, that's what that girl said, that they were going to go for a walk on the beach," Nicolette said, snatching the cotton candy greedily from Ricky's hands, "Nice romantic ending to a nice romantic date. Cliché, huh?"

"Would you like a walk on the beach?" Ricky asked almost cynically, then grabbed her wrist and dragging her through the crowd before she could respond, "Of course you would. You want romance."

"What is your deal with that chick, anyways? I thought you didn't like her," Nicolette cried through a grimace, "Though I guess you've always had jealousy issues, Rick. Nobody can have anything you don't have, or haven't already had. And if they do, you've just got to take it from them"

"Just shut up and walk," Ricky snapped.

"Duh, high heels hurt. You're lucky you're hot…"

-0-0-

Reggie discarded her socks and shoes on the sand, eyeing the reluctant Twister still standing on the boardwalk. He had been silent since she dragged him from the amusement park. Whatever happened between Ricky and himself had really upset him.

"Should I even bother asking you about it?" Reggie asked.

"Huh?"

"What's your deal with Ricky?" she questioned, falling to the sand and looking up at him.

"More like what's his deal with me…" he murmured, coming to sit next to her, "I don't know. The guy's a jerk. Why do you hang out with him?"

"I don't know. Everybody deserves a chance," she shrugged, "His parents move him around a lot. You know what it's like to be the new guy, unless you've forgotten, it's no fun. He's always been the new guy, wherever he went. I guess he sort of…well…he had to learn how to make friends fast, and I guess that didn't involve proper moral etiquette. I feel bad for him."

"_You feel bad for him_," Twister cried incredulously, "He's got popularity practically spilling out his ears, he's always surrounded by people at school, his parents are rich and buy him everything he wants, and did you see the girl he was dating…er…" Reggie raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, I did. Pray tell, what did you think of her?"

"She wasn't as pretty as you," he said quickly, then adding, "And she probably couldn't shred like you. And…and…um…and she kind of looked like a…uh…puta?" he sighed, leaning back, the sand feeling comfortingly familiar beneath his fingers, "Honestly, Reg, she looked like a real bitch to me, and they seemed to make a perfect couple."

"She says we're at the cutesy stage," Reggie mumbled, drawing her legs up to her chest and lowering her head, "That pretty soon all you're gonna want to do is make-out all the time, and not kick it with me anymore."

"Make-out?" Twister questioned, sticking out his tongue, "All the time? That's sick." Reggie laughed, pulling herself to her feet and dusting the sand from her pants.

"Oh, grow up, Twist," she told him jovially, extending a hand that he accepted, having removed his own shoes and socks. He scrunched his nose when he saw two blonde figures walking down from the boardwalk to the shore.

"What the hell are they doing here?" he inquired, and Reggie turned, the wind catching her hair and bellowing it around her face. She brought a hand up to hold it back.

"Looks like we're not the only ones that felt a moonlight stroll on the beach would be romantic, Nicky." Ricky announced, coming to a stop in front of Reggie and Twister, who were staring blankly at the approaching couple.

"God, Rick, the dirt is getting on my feet," Nicolette moaned, one of her heels getting stuck beneath the sand. She attempted to pull it out, stumbling forward and grabbing onto Ricky for balance.

"Are you following us or something?" Twister demanded, stepping forward, but Reggie held him back.

"It's a big beach, Twister, and we don't own it. They can walk here too," she told him, grabbing on to his hand and tugging him away, "We came here to walk, so let's walk." They trekked along the shoreline, hand in hand; mildly aware of the fact Ricky and Nicolette were trailing behind them.

"Why is he here?" Twister whispered roughly to Reggie, "He's following us, I know it. He wants to ruin this…he's trying to…"

"Will you please stop accusing him of things?" Reggie hissed, "Jesus, Twister. They're just taking a walk on the beach, just like us. What's the big deal? Just pretend they're not there."

"Reg, sometimes I think you can be slower than me," Twister muttered, receiving a very stern glare, "You've got to stop giving that guy the benefit of the doubt."

"It's a nice night," Ricky announced, wrapping his arm around Nicolette's shoulders. She giggled, happy of the attention.

"Oh, Ricky, we should come down here tomorrow morning. I can work on my tan," she squealed, "You can surf, right?"

"Of course I can," Ricky told her with a hearty chuckle, "I don't like to brag, but I'm sure I'm one of the better surfers in the area. Twister can surf, can't you, _Twist_?" Twister cringed and he felt Reggie squeeze his hand, "Perhaps I'll show you some of my moves on the water tomorrow, Nicky. Would you like that?" More giggling.

"There must be a lot of cute surfer boys out on the water," she teased, "How will I know which one is you?"

"I'll be the one still standing after the wave has crashed down," Ricky boasted. Twister rolled his eyes, "Perhaps I'll show you how to surf, Nicky."

"Me? I'm a girl," Nicolette protested, "I can't surf." Twister didn't need to look to know Reggie's reaction to that statement. He didn't need to see her eyes, to know they'd lit up with passion, her lips to know they pulled into a snarl, her body to know every muscle had tensed with determination. She'd paused, turning somewhat to look back at Nicolette reprovingly.

"I'm a girl, and I surf," she spat. Nicolette and Ricky had come to a hasty halt.

"You do?" Nicolette stammered in stun, then turning to Twister, "It must worry you, having her out in the waves like that. Doesn't it bother you?"

"Is it supposed to?" Twister questioned, a little startled by the statement, and at the same time confused, "Why would I be worried? Why would it bother me?"

"I can surf just as good, if not better, than any guy out there," Reggie proclaimed heatedly, hand on her hip, trembling slightly with rage, "I've been surfing my whole life."

"And she can rip," Twister commented.

"Thank you, Twister," she said sweetly to him.

"No problemo. But it is true. They don't call her Rocket girl for nothing."

"That explains it," Nicolette said simply, leaning heavily against Ricky, who remained neutral in the conversation.

"Come on, Reg," Twister pulled at his girlfriend, "Let it go." Reggie rolled her eyes and they continued on.

"I can't believe her," she whispered harshly, "How can she say that? Does she have no pride whatsoever? To just stand there and say that she can't do something because she's a girl! And then…and _then_, to demean _me _because I can do that exact thing!" A slight breeze picked up and Reggie shuddered, continuing to rage, "She has no dignity! No sense of feminism…women have fought hard…ugh! Do you know how long it took for the Equal Rights Amendment to be passed? _Women's Suffrage_? And that girl is throwing it all…" she trailed off, noticing Twister removing his sweatshirt, pulling it over his head and holding it out to her, "What are you doing?"

"You're cold, and you didn't bring a jacket," he explained, "I don't want you to get sick." Reggie smiled, blushingly taking the offered garment, and slipping her arms in the sleeves.

"Thanks," she mumbled, "But won't you get cold?" Twister frowned.

"I didn't think of that," he admitted.

"It's cool. If you do, we'll just…share body warmth," she told him, taking his hand. He looked confused a moment, chewing the inside of his cheek and thinking about the suggestion.

"How would we…" he started, until it dawned on him and his face lit up, "Oh…" he grinned slyly, looking to Reggie, "You know…I think I'm kind of cold now…"

"I'm cold," they heard Nicolette say expectantly to Ricky, behind them.

"Well you should have remembered your coat," Ricky drawled, "It's not my fault."

Reggie slipped her arms around Twister, bringing him into a deep kiss, that flushed the blood through their veins, warming them both ever so slightly. Nicolette stormed her way up the beach towards the boardwalk, Ricky following after her, as the oblivious couple continued with their blissful moment of embrace.

"What is with you, Nicky?" he demanded, grabbing at her arm, "Our date is not over."

"I don't care," Nicolette spat, "I want you to drive me home. I'm cold, and dirty, and hungry, and tired, and miserable following around that little bitch you seem to be obsessed with and watching her go about on her perfect date with her seemingly perfect boyfriend. You're supposed to be the charming gentleman, and you are getting outdone by a little Spanish boy from the Projects!"

"He lives in Ocean Shores, Nicolette," Ricky informed her tersely, "It's not the Projects. His parents work in office buildings not factories for below minimum wage."

"You know," Nicolette said amusedly, "I thought I was going to spend my vacation with _you_ as my love interest. But maybe I should change my target."

"You're low."

"You do seem to have something, like a bitter resentment towards him. You know, I think he's cute…he does have that accent. You've turned out to be nothing more than a whiny rich bastard, afraid of losing your masculinity in front of that little boy. And all the while, you're losing face to him. Maybe he'll be my Spring fling," Nicolette sneered, "Now take me home."

"Take yourself home, bitch."

-0-0-

"Twister," Reggie breathed against the redhead's lips.

"Hm…?" he murmured.

"I think Ricky left…"

"Good…"

"It's a nice night," Reggie commented.

"Yeah."

"You're sweater's big."

"Strange, I think it looks better on you," Twister buried his face in Reggie's neck, his arms wrapped around her waist, whispering, "Want to go back to the amusement park?"

"Later," Reggie told him, one arm draped over his neck, her other hand trailing along his shoulder blade, "You smell…well…kind of like your brother."

"I spilled his cologne on myself in the bathroom," Twister murmured, "It wouldn't come off. Just so long as you don't smell like your brother. That would be too weird." Reggie couldn't help laughing, fluttering a few kisses along his cheek, jaw line, neck, catching one against his ear.

"I really like tonight," she whispered, her words nothing more than warm breaths against his skin, "I really like being with you like this."

"Oh good," Twister mumbled, "Because if you didn't…"

"You gonna tell me what it meant?"

"What what meant?"

"What you said before, in Spanish…"

"Nope."

-0-0-

Ray paused the movie, for what seemed the hundredth time that night, and Otto puckered his lips; narrowing his eyes at his father.

"Okay, just to be certain, all they've done is hold hands, right?" Ray asked of his son, who looked at a piece of popcorn and considered throwing it at the older man.

"No, dad, they've kissed too," Otto replied in exasperation.

"Kissed. _Kissed_! How could you let this happen, Otto? How could you allow her…and him…and her to kiss?"

"Dude, in case you haven't noticed, she does have a little thing called 'a mind of her own'. I can't control her! She's older, anyways. She pulls that seniority crap on me all that time," Otto told his father, "Now can we watch the movie? All the way through this time, with no interruptions?"

"Fine, fine…" Ray un-paused the movie and Otto began to relax back into the couch, stuffing a handful of the popcorn into his mouth. It was getting to the good part, the woman slipping into the dark cabin, her hand trailing shakily along the wall. The music pounding in the background like the heartbeat of the frightened soon-to-be victim. She touched the doorknob, where the killer sat waiting, swung the door open. And…Ray paused the movie again.

"What kind of kiss? A light kiss on the cheek, a quick peck on the lips…?" Ray inquired, staring anxiously at Otto.

"French. Movie, please."

"_FRENCH! _You mean that little punk had his tongue in my daughter's mouth?" Ray cried, leaping to his feet, "I'm going to get her."

"Dad," Otto groaned, off the couch and after his father, blocking the door, pressing his entire body weight against it to hold it shut, "Twister's my best bro, Raymundo, he wouldn't diss me like that, disrespecting my sister. Now you need to chill! And remember, Twist looks at you like an almost father-figure type, you've totally got authority over him. He wouldn't mess with Reg. Now can we watch the movie, _please_?"

"Are you sure?"

"It's Twister, dad."

"You keep saying that as though it's comforting to know."

-0-0-

Twister and Reggie trailed up to the steps of the Rockets' porch begrudgingly. The porch light had been left on and provided dim luminance for the couple. Twister held her hand tightly, watching her with eager, yet dismayed eyes. The night was ending, it was almost 1:20, and they'd been together nearly seven hours, but somehow, it didn't seem long enough. They'd gone back to the amusement park after a long stint on the beach, riding the different rides. Twister had tried the prize booths again, to no avail, though Reggie had managed to win him a small stuffed green creature with a turnip shaped head. It was shoved in his pocket, the head sticking out. They'd went to get ice-cream, but the parlor had closed five minutes before they'd arrive. So they contended to sit outside the skate park watching a few teens from their high school, that they didn't know, attempt simple tricks, while they chatted. They had walked back to their cul-de-sac reverently, not wanting to ruin the moment with too much talk, just quietly appreciating the other's company.

"So…" Twister finally broke the silence, "We're gonna do this again sometime?"

"Most definitely."

"Soon?"

"Totally," Reggie grinned, wrapping her fingers in Twister's sweatshirt, that she still wore. She moved to take it off, but he shook his head.

"I'll get it tomorrow," he told her, pressing a kiss to her mouth. Their lips parted slightly, and he carefully slipped his hand up to cradle the back of her neck, the other still clutching her hand. When he pulled away, his face was enlivened with color, and he was grinning broadly.

"Bye, Twist," she mumbled, trying to straighten the wild mess that was her hair, having officially become a lost cause after the fifth time around on the Lightening Express. He nodded, "See 'ya tomorrow…" she said, the same breathless tone in her voice. She watched him jog lightly across the street towards his house, glancing back every so often to which he received a wave from her. When he'd disappeared up his walk, giving her one last wave, she entered her house.

Reggie wasn't surprised to find her father sleeping on the couch, the television still buzzing on. She snuck through the living room, lifting the remote and flicking the TV off, lightly brushing her lips over her father's forehead, and fixing the quilt the old man had thrown over himself earlier in the evening. She smiled, feeling a rush in her already pounding chest, an endearing twang, when she found Otto asleep at the top of the stairs, slumped against the wall. He had a skateboard magazine open on his chest. Carefully, quietly, she moved the magazine off of him, slipping into his room and returning with his blanket. She laid it over his body, kissing his cheek gently, and entering her own room, slowly and silently closing the door behind her.

A rush of blood swelled to Reggie's head, and she spun around the room, before falling onto her bed, arms flung about on either side of her. She'd never been on a date that had left her so lightheaded, so satisfied, so satiated, and yet, so completely craving for more.

-0-0-

Twister entered the dark of the house as quietly as he could. He knew his parents were asleep upstairs in their room. He stumbled his way into the kitchen, almost knocking over a floor lamp. He opened the refrigerator, the tiny light emitting enough luminance to fill the kitchen. He found the milk, opening the container and raising it to his lips.

"¿Le han dicho para no beber derecho de la botella? (Haven't you been told not to drink straight from the bottle?)" a voice sneered behind him, and he lowered the milk, turning to face his older brother.

"Hola, Lars," Twister grumbled, placing the milk on the counter and rummaging the cabinets for a glass.

"Keys," Lars demanded, extending his hand. For a moment, Twister had no idea what he was talking about. Then, suddenly struck with realization, he reached into his pocket producing the clanging key chain, and tossing it over to the older boy. "¿Tu no tomó el car hacia fuera?"

"No," Twister muttered, "We walked."

"I thought mom said, '¡Tu no está haciendo que caminata dulce de la muchacha en su fecha! ¡La prohíbo! Incluso si tu es un hijo más flojo, y un novio horrible... (you're not making that sweet girl walk on your date! I forbid it! Even if you are a slacker son, and a horrible boyfriend…)'," Lars cried in a mock high-pitched impression of their mother.

"Callate, Lars," Twister snapped, slamming the fridge door shut, wincing at the loud noise it made.

"My, my, aren't we irritable?" Lars mocked, then taking a serious tone, "¿Cuál es su problema?"

"Nada," Twister replied offensively, pushing his way from the kitchen.

"Did the date go badly? Oh well, looks like little Reggie Rocket is on the market again…"

"It didn't go badly," Twister cried, "It went fine," he smiled somewhat, in his own world, saying softly, "Better than fine," then his eyes flared, "If only Ricky hadn't been there…"

"Pretty boy was there?"

"Yes! ¡Podría matar a ese gringo! ¡Él es tal bastardo! ¡Lo odio!"

"Sheesh, calm down," Lars told him, "You'll wake mom and dad."

"Sorry. But he's right…I can't tell Reggie what a slime ball he is. I can't tell her what he did…or was gonna do," Twister mumbled, "I couldn't do that to her. She has it in her head that he's really a good guy underneath…but he's just a…a…mierda que come el gusano."

"Whoa, whoa…why can't you tell Reggie what he did?"

"Because, bro, it's never a good feeling finding out you were being used," Twister seethed, "But add that to finding out he never really liked her that way, never really thought she was…he's a fucking bastard…and he knows I can't tell her!" Twister shook his head, sighing heavily, "It doesn't matter. It shouldn't, huh? Reggie's my girlfriend, right?" he smiled at that thought, "Yeah, Reggie's my girlfriend. I just…there's nothing I can do…buonas noches, Lars." He left the room, and Lars could hear his plodding footsteps up the stairs to his room.

"Sure, mi hermanito, _you_ can't tell her," he whispered to himself, pulling the milk from the fridge, lifting the bottle to his lips and taking a gulp.

-0-0-

Sam flopped over in his bed, reaching for the annoying object ringing loudly on his side table. He pulled the phone to his ear, trying to open his eyes, grabbing for his glasses so that he could read the blurry digital numbers on his alarm clock.

"Hello?" he moaned into the phone, and held it back when a great squeal flooded his ear.

"Oh my god, Sam, you have to get over here. _Now_!"

"Sherry?" Sam mumbled, "What time is it? Where are you?"

"It's four, I'm at Spray Beach. Get out of bed, get down here, now!"

"What?" There was a click, and the other end of the line went dead. Sam closed his eyes, attempting to return to sleep. He groaned, failing miserably at drifting back off to slumber, and rolling out of bed. Curiosity getting the best of him. He grabbed his glasses, noting that it was indeed four in the morning, and scrambled to pull some clothes on. He had to sneak out, as his mother would flip at the notion of him being out while it was dark. He pulled his jacket tightly about him and grabbed his skateboard by the door.

It was chilly outside, and Spray Beach wasn't too far from Sam's house, and he did know all the shortcuts. So it didn't take him long to get there. He could make out the bright moon shining in the night sky, and the hazy beginnings of the new morning. Sherry stood on the beach, a heavy coat wrapped around her body. She was barefoot, though the sand was undoubtedly freezing, so Sam kept his own shoes on. She was alone, he could tell that much. And there was something on the beach. Little silver bodies, shimmering in the moonlight.

"Aren't they beautiful?" she questioned, when she saw him approaching, "Grunions."

"I've heard about this…I just…I've never seen it," Sam said in stun, "I've never been out this late. What are you doing here?"

"My dad used to always drag us out to see the grunion run," Sherry explained, "Every year. But my mom's sick tonight, so I came alone…I thought, out of everyone, you'd appreciate it."

"It's amazing…" Sam breathed softly, "You know, they have the strangest spawning ritual…they come out after the full and new moons, dragging themselves on the beach. The females bury themselves in the sand, making a nest to lay their eggs, and the males come by to fertilize them…"

"Really?" Sherry looked to him, listening intently as he told her of the breeding and life cycle of the grunion. They sat side-by-side in the sand, watching as the fish squirmed their ways back into the water.

"They're losing in number," Sam told her, "You know, because of their odd breeding habit, loss of habitat, and…well, predators."

"It's so sad," Sherry commented, "But it's just so lovely at the same time. Can you imagine…fighting so hard to get on the beach, and lay your eggs, and then just leave them and hope they all hatch and make it to the water safely."

"A lot of animals are like that. The salmon, the sea turtles…humans have it easy, if you ask me," Sam said, "Nine month gestation, a trip to the hospital…"

"Then eighteen years of pain, turmoil and financial instability," Sherry finished for him. He smiled at her, chuckling slightly.

"Thanks, Sherry, for dragging me out of bed for this," Sam told her. They both broke into laughter at the absurdity of that statement, leaning back in the sand and watching the sun start to break along the horizon.

* * *

END A/N: I needed to put Sam in this chapter. I just _had _to. I hear that most R/T ffs tend to leave Sam out a great deal, and I don't want to do that. Of course, I also think that's just paranoia on the part of R/S shippers. Nobody on the R/T end bitches and moans about how R/S stories don't involve Twister enough. Quit complaining about it.

I apologize.

Anyways, I thought the grunion run would be a romantic place to end the chapter. For those of you who don't know, grunion runs are an actual thing that happenon California beaches. Grunions are little silver fish that, for five or six days after the full and new moons, pull themselves up on the shores (after high tide) to spawn. It's really a strange breeding habit, and I don't doubt, brings in lost of tourists and people who want to watch. Or catch grunions. Yes, humans are some of those predators that threaten the numbers of these odd little fish. During these runs, people will actually catch the fish. How rude, huh? How would you like it if someone snatched you up in the middle of sex? But I guess they have their reasons. Like people who hunt. But let's not get into that one, shall we?

Yeah. And I thought it would be something Sam would be interested in seeing. Am I pushing towards a Sherry/Sam romance? Maybe. You'll see.

Please excuse any grammatical and typing errors. PLEASE _**REVIEW**_! Can't stress enough how much I love reviews. Especially highly critical ones that cut up and comb out every little detail of the chapter. I'll give everyone a shiny nickel! I may update faster!

Off I go, to work on RECESS FICS! I hope...

THANKS FOR READING...take my breath away...take my breath away...GO MAVERICK!


	11. A Dim Light In the Dark pt4

A/N: I don't like this chapter.

Thanks for reviewing guys:

TheAngelOfAnarchy: I HAVE FAILED YOU! My recess fics sit...almost untouched...I worked a little bit on The Legend of Bandit...and then Ojos de los Muertos called and I answered...yup, I have a tattoo. It's no big deal. It's good that you've put a lot of thought into the tat you want. I totally think you should go for it. It hurts like hell, but it's kind of a good pain. Like, you know, when you get a bruise and it just feels good to push on it.

VUWildcat: You liked the wine vs. tequila talk...great, because I didn't think I explained it well enough. I was absolutely certain that everyone would be staring at the screen blankly saying "what the hell is she talking about?"

CSIForensicnut09: Yup...maybe Ricky will die in the end of this story...hm...haha! Reg is kind of in a sticky situation, really...I hope she stays by Twister's side.

RoxySurferGurl623: You've never heard of Macromedia Flash? What programs do you use? They're all big programs...but I guess I did spend four years as a Graphics major and I did go to a computer nerd school. I drew a lot on my family for chapter nine. My grandmother is Japanese, and she used to speak it with my Uncle. But he'd get teased at school for it, so he told her to stop teaching him the language. Now, she's really embarrassed by her nationality. She'll tell us she doesn't speak Japanese anymore if we ask about it (which is a lie) and she refuses to teach anyone the language or anything. I'm sorry about "the projects" comment, but I really wanted Nicolette to come off as someone you could hate, and very ignorant. I think everyone lives a double life really...yes, I have a tattoo, and more coming.You really shouldn't go behind your mother's back, there might be a reason behind why she doesn't want you getting one...even if it's just that she's old fashioned. Talk to her about it and tell her that you're getting one when your eighteen either way and you just want her to know that. Also, I think you should really put a lot of thought into what you want to get done. It should have more meaning to you then "it's just cool looking". What does "made" mean to you? Is it just that it sounds cool, or is there a back story? A reason? Because if you just get something because you think it looks cool, or it's trendy now, chances are five years from now you won't want it. Just keep in mind: Tattoo's are permanent, they hurt, and they're expensive; getting them removed hurts more and costs more. Wow, I wrote you a lot. And on a side note, my mother pierced my little sister's cartilage for her. She's not as cool as she sounds.

A Sailor's Girl: I hope you do write an R/T fic, there can never be enough. Reggie and Twister FOREVER! Whoops...

Amy: Thanks for sticking around...there's still more of this fic to come, so don't go nowhere.

peachy15: Whatever she tries, in the end it's up to Twister and how he reacts to whatever she chooses to do. I couldn't leave Sammy out, for one thing, he's an integral part of this story.

Warina-Kinomoto: I was wondering where you'd got to. Now I'm all confuddled. I have jovhyz telling me that "tu" is more used in informal talk in Mexico, and thenI have you telling me to use "usted" and...oi...it's sounds pretty either way. I've decided that Raul and Sandy will always use usted, though maybe 'tu' with one another. And that the children will use 'usted' when addressing their parents and adults, but 'tu' amongst eachother. Yup. Whew. Are you with yahoo, or some other e-mail providing service. The most important part of your e-mail isn't showing up...

That's all...for now, right?

ENJOY!

* * *

A Dim Light In the Dark 

Chapter 4

Reggie pushed the clothes around on the silver hoop rack. She chose a particular sun dress, white, with light blue flowers dancing across it, halter topped. She lifted it up to her neck, looking to Cleo who stood admiring a pair of dainty hoop earrings.

"Well…?" Reggie questioned, gaining Cleo's attention.

"Very nice. But it's a dress."

"I know," Reggie mumbled, placing it back where she'd found it, "I just thought…you know…Twister might like it." Cleo rolled her eyes.

"I don't think Maurice would notice," she said, "No. I take that back. He would notice. But what he would notice, would be the same as if you wearing your beach clothes," she glanced at the price tag, commenting, "And that costs less."

"Do you think I'd look good in a dress?" Reggie asked, walking over to examine a pair of sunglasses and nodding to the young woman behind the counter, who briefly smiled.

"I think you'd look gorgeous in a dress," Cleo told her, "But I don't think you could walk in a dress, and I don't think you'd like being in a dress."

"Cleo…" Reggie started, but her friend raised a silencing hand.

"You're a tomboy, Reggie. Diehard. I hate to be the one to break this to you, but you can't exactly do all the things you do in a skirt or dress," Cleo pointed out, "Would you really want to give up skateboarding, roller blading, surfing, street hockey, and the mass amount of other things you do just so you can look nice for a boy who thinks you're beautiful no matter what you wear?"

"You don't know that he thinks that," Reggie whimpered, then frowning, "No."

"Though…" Cleo conceded, lifting a tube topped dress with a layered skirt off the wrack, "I do think pink is more your color…" Reggie rolled her eyes, giggling somewhat as she brought the dress up to her neck and studied herself in the mirror. Cleo pulled her hair back and the girls broke into laughter.

They left the store shortly, each carrying a purchase of her own. Reggie paused, spying the window of another clothing store. 'Now Hiring' read a sign in bold black lettering, beneath it said, 'part-time, full-time. Ask inside for application'.

"Thinking of getting a job?" Cleo asked, following her gaze.

"Sort of…yeah. I don't want Twist to have to pay for everything. We do live in the nineties…not to mention, he's using up all his allowance. He saves up a lot for his camera equipment and everything…I don't want him to have to sacrifice that for me," Reggie answered, "And I work at the Shore Shack every now and then, but I mean, pay from the business that puts food on my table is kind of harsh to ask for. You know what, I'm going to do it. I'm gonna get an application."

"So will I," Cleo grinned, "Get a job, I mean, just not there."

"Why?" Reggie questioned, a little hurtfully.

"Because," Cleo replied, linking arms with Reggie and leading her towards the store, "My paycheck would be spent before my shift was over."

-0-0-

Twister sat back taping Otto, who flew into the air pulling off a perfect 360 varial with a beautiful landing into a rail grind. Sam sat next to him, tapping at his computer, and glancing up every now and then to give comment or praise Otto's way. Said Rocket boy kicked his board up into his hand, crossing the park over to his friends.

"You gonna tell us how it went?" he finally asked and Sam gave him a meaningful glare. They'd agreed, before heading to the Madtown skate park, that they would wait for Twister to bring up his date with Reggie rather than bluntly pester him for answers. The way Otto saw it though, he'd given the boy an hour, which was long enough. Now it was time for demands.

"How what went?" Twister inquired innocently, flicking his camera off.

"Duh? The date?" Otto snapped.

"Oh," Twister mumbled, slipping his camera into its bag, and fidgeting slightly, "Isn't there anything else to talk about? It's nice weather, you know…"

"No!" Otto cried.

"I, for one, am also curious to know how your outing with Reggie went," Sam spoke up, cleaning his glasses distractedly with his shirt. Then with a mocking tone, "Did you wow her with your wit?"

"It went fine," Twister muttered, lifting his board up, "We came here to skate, didn't we?"

"Whoa, wait," Otto growled, grabbing onto his best friend's arm and holding him firmly in place, "Why are you dodging this, man? How'd the date really go?" Twister rolled his eyes.

"It went fine," he repeated sternly, then, his voice faltering, "After Ricky left…"

"Ricky was there," Otto spat, "That bastard better not of worked you guys! What did he want?"

"He was on a date with some stuck up chick," Twister answered, "I swear they were following us! First, he snakes his way into a double date with me and Reg, and then when we try to ditch him, you know…go for a walk on the beach, he shows up there with his date! Reggie said I was jumping to assumptions or something…but…why is she friends with him?"

"That guy's a jerk," Sam agreed, "And I don't think Reggie should hang around him as much as she does. Or at all, for that matter. But there's nothing we can do. We can't exactly boss her around, she does what she wants."

"Twister can, she's his girlfriend," Otto stated, and Sam just shook his head.

"Bad idea," he muttered.

"Why?" Twister asked, "If I don't want her hanging around him, can't I just tell her…"

"And quickly end your relationship, huh, genius?" Sam interjected, "Think about it…"

"Dude, don't make him work for this," Otto joked, "We'll be here all day."

"What…?" Twister pouted.

"As I was saying," Sam hissed stridently, "When have you ever known Reg to do what you tell her? Or even take kindly to being ordered around? If you pull that 'I'm your boyfriend, do as I say' crap on her, she'll turn around with the 'well, then, maybe you won't be my boyfriend' bit on you. Get my meaning, now?"

"So what do I do?" Twister sighed.

"I don't know," Sam told him, "Reg is smart, she'll figure out what a scumbag he is eventually."

"I don't have eventually!" Twister cried, "In the mean time, that jerk is getting real cozy next to my girlfriend…I just…I want to pound him."

"I'm down with that," Otto said, punching fists with Twister.

"That's great, and then while your at it, go hunt down a small animal with your bare hands, mark your territory, and bang a few girls over the head and drag them back to your houses by the hair," Sam scoffed, receiving raised eyebrows from the other boys, "You two are acting like _Neanderthals_!"

"Neander-what's?" Otto questioned.

"I think he's talking about underwear…" Twister said.

"Prehistoric sapiens, cave men, _animals_? Do you two even pay attention in biology?" Sam inquired dubiously.

"If it's during first or second period, I probably sleep through it," Otto informed him matter-of-factly.

"I don't think I've flunked that class, yet," Twister said thoughtfully.

"Oh boy," Sam muttered, taking a deep breath, "Simply pounding the guy isn't going to get you anywhere. Reggie'll be pissed and you two will get in serious trouble. The words 'assault and battery' mean anything to your testosterone driven brains?"

"Dude, we don't take steroids," Twister told him in all seriousness.

"He's talking about hormones, Twist," Otto grumbled haggardly, "And he's right."

"Of course he's right. He's always right. He's the Squid," Twister pointed out, then grinning reminiscently, "Reg was totally tweaked with Ricky's blonde bimbo date. She was so ready to whomp her, and Reg could've taken that bitch."

"And you're happy about this? If she didn't get along with Ricky's date…it could mean she has some sort of jealousy about him dating other girls, which could mean she has some sort of feelings for him" Sam said.

"That's not it," Twister insisted, scowling at the shorter boy, "She got completely aggro when the chick said girls couldn't surf. You should have seen her, man."

"Oh, I guess that makes sense, Reggie is a huge feminist. Reg in a fight," Sam mumbled, "I'd pay money to see that." He flushed, falling silent, "I mean…um…"

"_Dude_," Otto cried, "What thoughts are running through your mind, you perverted Squid?"

"Nothing," Sam snapped, "Jeez…Reg just doesn't get in fights…something tells me Twister's having a bad influence on her if what he says is right."

Twister frowned slightly, dropping his skateboard to the ground and dropping down into the dip. Otto and Sam continued talking about Reggie and Ricky.

"_Did I wow her with my wit?_" he muttered bitterly, in a mock tone, "_Don't make him work for it…it'll take him all day…_I'm not stupid!" He flipped into a McTwist, landing hard, grabbing some backside air, and nearly running right into a young blonde woman standing in the way. He stumbled in his attempt to stop, his skateboard rolling away from him. Catching his balance, he turned on her, "What are you doing standing in the middle of the…" he paused. He recognized the girl, "What do you want?"

"Just came to talk," she said, smiling.

"It's Nicorette, right?"

"Nicolette," she corrected, her smile never faltering, "I'm not very helpful in quitting a smoking habit. I'm actually very good at doing just the opposite." She flipped her hair, eyeing Twister almost hungrily. It bothered him.

"I bet you are," Twister told her harshly, retrieving his board. She was dressed in a soft blue tank top, and a white mini-skirt; just as revealing as her dress the night before. She had white sneakers on, a little more practical then the heels, but obviously not designed for any activity beyond lounging. It was evident she wasn't at Madtown to skate.

"Where's your girlfriend?"

"None of your business."

"Oh," she replied statically, smiling as though she knew something he didn't, "But she's not around, is she?"

"Look. Chick. Me, skater. This," Twister spread his arms wide, "Skate park. I'm skating. You want to chat, find a chat park. And go stand by the benches. I could've really beefed that move. You stand around here, you're gonna get someone hurt." He slammed the board back to the pavement, racing back in with a quick 180. Nicolette snorted lightly, eyeing the benches malevolently, where several shoobies were practicing standing on their boards and blades, then turning to leave the park. That really wasn't the way she'd planned that conversation to go. She smirked. He would be a challenge. That's not to say she wasn't afraid of challenges.

-0-0-

The boys sank into chairs at the Shore Shack, nodding acknowledgement to Tito and Ray. Sam eagerly accepted a tray of fries from the large Hawaiian, munching greedily.

"I'm starved," he stated, as though the other two boys couldn't already tell. He smiled, seeing someone beyond their shoulders and they turned. Reggie and Cleo were making their ways up the walk, shopping bags in hand.

"Ladies," Otto greeted, "Where you two been?" They held up their bags, "Oh. You skipped Madtown to _shop_?"

"I got a cute skirt and some Capri pants that really bring out my eyes for almost half the regular price," Cleo replied, as though that explained everything. She leaned close to Twister's ear, her hand on his shoulder, "And Reggie got a lovely present for you to see…"

"Cleo," Reggie snapped, blushing, as she sat down next to the redheaded boy.

"A present?" Twister perked up, "What kind of present?"

"The kind you wear…" Cleo persisted. Reggie rolled her eyes.

"I got a dress, alright," she said evenly.

"I don't think Twister would look good in a dress," Sam commented.

"It's not for him to wear," Cleo remarked, as though annoyed, "It's for him to see Reggie wear." Twister sunk, skulking.

"What's wrong?" Reggie asked.

"I thought you got me a present…" he answered dismally. Cleo slapped his shoulder, "Hey! What'd you hit me for?" Reggie shook her head, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him into a kiss. Otto made a few gagging noises, and Sam rolled his eyes, peeking in Reggie's bag.

"What do you need a dress for?" Otto demanded, as the two teens fell apart, "You can't skate in a dress, you can't surf in a dress, you sure as hell can't snowboard in a dress…"

"It's just to look nice in," Reggie spat, "What's it to you, anyways? I wanted a dress, so I got a dress."

"But you always look nice," Twister distractedly commented, snaking some fries from Sam.

"I could take it back," Reggie cried, "Since apparently nobody wants me to have a dress."

"I want you to have a dress, Reggie," Sam spoke up, "If you want to have one, then I want you to have one."

"Thanks, Sammy."

"Suck up," Otto muttered.

"I never said I didn't want you to have a dress," Twister whimpered, "I just…don't know why you need a dress."

"I don't need a dress. Alright? Can we drop the subject? I have a dress now, it's over and done with," Reggie cried, shaking her head. They were all silent. "I applied for a job."

"You did?" Ray said from behind the counter, "But princess, I need your help around the Shack."

"I can help out, dad," Otto pointed out. Ray looked to him briefly.

"But princess, I need your help around the Shack," he repeated.

"It's only a part-time gig, dad," Reggie told him, "I'll still have time to help out at the Shack when you need me. I just need the cash."

"What for?" Twister questioned, slipping his arm around her shoulders. She looked at him almost threateningly.

"Maybe to buy more dresses that you don't see the point of me having," she hissed. Twister pulled away a little hurt.

"What did I do?" he asked, a little precariously. Reggie sighed, taking a fry.

"Nothing," she muttered, "You guys get your homework done?

"Friday night, actually," Sam said. Reggie smiled at him.

"I know, Sam," she told him, "You're awesome like that. I'm talking to these two," she leaned across the table and grabbed Otto's ear, "Did you?"

"Ow, Reg," Otto complained, "Yeah, yeah! Jeez, let go!" She released him, "Everything, but math and Spanish…" Reggie raised an eyebrow, "I was hoping you'd help me." He grinned sweetly to her.

"I can help with the math," Reggie muttered, "But my Spanish isn't that great…" She took Twister by the chin, turning his face to hers, "Did you do your homework?"

"Did I have homework…?" he murmured, and Reggie gave him a stern look, "I'll do it tonight!"

"Hey, Twist, you speak Spanish," Otto suddenly cried.

"Do I?" Twister mumbled, munching on a fry, Cleo pinching him on the arm, "I mean… you're right, I do!"

"Help me with my Spanish," Otto commanded. Twister frowned, occupying himself by playing with a strand of Reggie's hair.

"I changed my mind, I don't speak Spanish," he said.

"Come on, dude, help a bro out!"

"I can help you with your Spanish," Cleo suggested.

"That's right, Cleo, _you_ speak Spanish, too," Otto exclaimed, "Help me with my Spanish." Cleo blinked a little startled.

"When?" she questioned.

"I'll swing by tonight, around four…five?"

"I'll come too," Reggie said, "I need help with my Spanish."

"I can help you with your Spanish," Twister straightened, "I'm down with that." Otto scowled at him, crossing his arms over his chest.

"But you won't help me?" he snarled.

"Well…" Twister's brow furrowed, and he grinned somewhat meekly, "She makes out with me." Reggie slapped his arm, and Otto rolled his eyes.

"Don't worry, Otto," Cleo interrupted, "I'll help you. Maurice's Spanish is much more like a gringo's anyways."

"Hey! It is not," Twister argued.

"It's cool either way," Otto grumbled, "I don't need to learn the language. I just need to pass the class."

"Is that so?" Cleo pressed, hands on hips.

"I mean…" Otto cleared his throat, "Spanish is such a fascinating and…um…beautiful language, that I would be more than totally stoked to learn. So, four o'clock, right?"

"I'll see you then," Cleo sneered, picking up her bags, "Home, Maurice?"

"Yeah, I'm coming," Twister muttered, looking to Reggie, "Did you want me to help? With your Spanish?"

"I'd like that," Reggie told him, "Come over tonight…we'll be alone, so it'll be cool."

"Cool," Twister said, leaning in to brush a kiss along her lips. He picked up his board and bag, "Later much, Otto, Squid."

"See ya, Twist," Sam said and Otto snorted lightly, but waved.

Twister had to jog to catch up with Cleo, who'd already begun walking. She was moving at a quick pace, swinging her bags slightly.

"What's with you?" Twister demanded, "Why you in such a rush?"

"No entiendo lo que ve Reggie en tu (I don't understand what Reggie sees in you)," Cleo stated bluntly. Twister stopped, staring at her blankly.

"¿_Qué_?"

"¡Tu era totalmente insensible a sus sensaciones! (You were completely insensitive to her feelings!)" Cleo cried, turning to face him, enrage, "¿Tu pensó siempre para considerar que ella compró quizá el vestido para tu? ¿Que ella le pensó quizá quisiera verla en un vestido? ¡Y tu se sienta allí y dice 'Well, I don't see why you need a dress'! ¡Ella deseó parecer agradable para tu! (Did you ever think to consider that maybe she bought the dress for you? That maybe she thought you would like to see her in a dress? And you sit there and say 'well, I don't see why you need a dress'! She wanted to look nice for you!)"

"Reggie doesn't need to wear a dress for me," Twister mumbled, "I don't…¿qué tu está hablando? (what are you talking about?)"

"¿Qué tu piensa una relación es, Maurice? ¿Besándose, llevando a cabo las manos, _shredding_? (What do you think a relationship is, Maurice? Kissing, holding hands, _shredding_?)" Cleo demanded.

"Why are you so upset about this? Reggie didn't care…"

"No. Ella cuidó. Tu está demasiado oculto justo a ver. Ella está intentando demasiado difícilmente impresionar un...un... tu. (No. She did care. You are just too blind to see. She is trying too hard to impress a...a...you.)" Cleo shook her head, "¿Por qué incomodo? Tu no entiende. (Why do I bother? You don't understand.)" She continued walking, and Twister reluctantly followed, silent, his eyes trailing on the ground. She was right. He didn't understand. Why did everybody keep telling him he was blind when it came to Reggie? Why did everyone keep telling him he didn't see how she really felt? His stomach knotted. Did he want to know how she _really _felt?

-0-0-

The Rodriguez family gathered in the living room. Raul and Sandy sat on the couch, Lars stood by the door, Twister lounging in a chair, and Cleo stood behind him. The television had been turned off when Lars, the last to arrive, had entered the room. Now, the children all had their eyes on the two adults.

"Tenemos algo que hablar con usted todo alrededor (We have something to talk to you all about)," Sandy announced.

"Muchachos," Raul started, "Usted tiene probablemente ambos que se preguntan cuando Cleo estaría saliendo para su hogar (You have probably both been wondering when Cleo would be departing for her home)."

"No," Twister muttered.

"Not really," Lars agreed.

"Ah…well…," Raul stammered and Sandy cleared her throat.

"Un cambio grande va a ser realizado en esta casa. Cleo va a vivir aquí, de ahora encendido, y a atender a la escuela con usted los muchachos (A big change is going to be made in this house. Cleo is going to be living here, from now on, and attending school with you boys)," Sandy exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

"That's cool," Twister piped, "Are her parents kicking her out?"

"Glad to have you aboard, cuz," Lars told Cleo, "Don't think all your stuff is going to fit in the den, though…"

"No, Maurice. Sus padres tenían razón muy buena de enviarla aquí, principalmente para la seguridad. Su escuela actual se ha convertido en un problema. Y, Lars, ella no dormirá en la guarida. Ella permanecerá en su sitio (No, Maurice. Her parents had very good reason to send her here, mainly for safety. Her current school has become a problem. And, Lars, she will not be sleeping in the den. She will be staying in your room)," Raul clarified. Lars raised an eyebrow and Twister broke into laughter.

"I have to share a room with her?" he demanded.

"Oh, man…have fun with your new roommate, Lars. I hope she doesn't get all her clothes and make-up all over your stuff," Twister chuckled. Cleo smirked, and Sandy narrowed her eyes at the two.

"No, Lars, you have to share a room with your brother," she said sternly. Twister stopped laughing and Lars's scrunched his nose.

"I…what?" Lars cried.

"He _what_?" Twister yelled, "But…I'm his brother. No way! No estoy compartiendo un cuarto con él. ¡No! ¡Usted no puede hacerme! ¡Estoy cambiando las cerraduras en mi puerta! (I am not sharing a room with him. No! You can't make me! I'm changing the locks on my door!)"

"¿Tengo que compartir un cuarto con él? ¿Usted ha visto su sitio? ¡Es una ruina del tren! ¡No lo llaman Twister para nada! (I have to share a room with him? Have you seen his room? It's a train wreck! They don't call him Twister for nothing!)"

"¡Él ensuciará con mi materia! (He'll mess with my stuff!)"

"¡Él es un cerdo! (He's a pig!)"

"¡No soy! ¡Tu es una comadreja! (I am not! You're a weasel!)"

"¿Una comadreja? ¿Es ése el mejor que usted puede venir para arriba con? (A weasel? Is that the best you can come up with?)"

"¡Si... tu tiene sí ojos beady, y tu huele malo! (Yes…you have beady eyes, and you smell bad!)"

"¡Muchachos, muchachos! (Boys, boys!)" Sandy cried, "Esté por favor... (Please be…)"

"¡Bien, es entonces el ser mejor un pequeño cerdo! (Well, it's better then being a little pig!)"

"Muchachos…"

"¡No soy poco! (I am not little!)"

"Silencio!" Sandy screeched, and the two fell silent, "Lars, usted está saliendo a la universidad el año próximo. Usted no tendrá que compartir un cuarto con Maurice para demasiado largo. Maurice, usted puede limpiar su sitio para arriba antes de que Lars tenga que moverse adentro. Cleo está permaneciendo aquí, ella está transfiriendo el mes próximo a su escuela después de volver a casa para un cortocircuito mientras que. Si los dos de usted aprueban o no está de ninguna preocupación. Usted ambos conseguirá adelante, si tengo que forzarle. ¿Se entiende eso? (Lars, you are going away to college next year. You will not have to share a room with Maurice for too long. Maurice, you can clean your room up before Lars has to move in. Cleo is staying here, she is transferring next month to your school after returning home for a short while. Whether the two of you approve or not is of no concern. You will both get along, if I have to force you. Is that understood?)"

"Yes ma'am," the boys murmured.

"Ahora, eso hemos discutido eso (Now, that we have discussed that)," Sandy sighed, relaxing against her husband, "Quisiera que usted todo estuviera limpio para la esta noche, y vestido bien, y el la hora para la cena. Estamos teniendo huéspedes. (I want you all to be clean for tonight, and well dressed, and on time for dinner. We are having guests.)"

The boys groaned.

"Who's coming?" Lars asked.

"Oh, our neighbors. The Stewards," Sandy answered, pulling herself up and heading to the kitchen. Twister slumped, and he could see Lars shaking his head as he slunk from the room. Cleo sighed, heading upstairs as Raul flipped the television back on.

"I'm going to take a shower," Cleo called over her shoulder.

"Um, dad…" Twister spoke up, "The…uh…the Stewards' son isn't coming, is he?"

-0-0-

Reggie raced upstairs to her room, slamming herself in the bathroom. She frowned at her image, slumping, and running her hand through her hair. She had tossed her shopping bags to the floor, and now she bent to rummage through them. She found the dress and pulled it out, holding it up to herself, sweeping her hair off her shoulders with her free hand. She snorted, tossing the garment back to the bags.

"Well, Rocket girl," she muttered, "Looks like you finally found something you can't do. Impress your own boyfriend with your female sensuality. For once in my life I want a guy to see that I'm a girl…and he doesn't." The phone rang and she sighed, leaving the bathroom and flopping on her bed, lifting the receiver from the cradle, "Hello?"

"Reg? It's Sherry."

"Hey, what's going on?"

"Sounds like you haven't heard, yet," Sherry squealed, "Oh…it's really not good!

"About what? What are you talking about?"

"Oh man…Reg…you are totally going to wig! Oh man…_Twister! _He is going to be so bummed!"

"Sherry…_what are you talking about_?"

"Reg…it's horrible. You kind of won something…"

* * *

END A/N: Poor Twister. Everyone is being really harsh towards him, I know. I lost my remote control and my tv is stuck on the Disney channel. It's okay though because Boy Meets World is on and I love that show. Oh, But Twister! Cleo kind of blew up on him, and I hope you guys can see where she was coming from. And Sam and Otto were kind of being mean...but they didn't realize it, so please forgive them. And what is Nicolette up to? And what is Sherry calling about? And now Twister has to eat dinner with Ricky in his own home? I bet you guys can't stand the suspense, huh? 

I needed to talk about something...I know it was important...oh, it's right there in my brain...what is wrong with me? I can't remember what I wanted to say and it's driving me insane...Oh yeah! I wanted to point out a few more Twist/Reg moments from the RP series...okay, I guess it wasn't that important. ANYWAYS; I wanted to mention first of all Snow Day in which Otto and Sam ditched school and Twist and Reg went and had to attend the best assembly ever. That whole episode was just so cute, because it had a lot Twister and Reg together. It's funny how no one really seems to reference that episode in their R/T fics, because it's really the only episode where Reg and Twist spend time alone together without the other two. Then I'd like to point out the two episodes with Trent (and this is also going to go into why I don't think Trent and Reg would have a relationship); Scrummage something or other (can't remember the title) and Reggie/Regina. In the Scrummage episode, at the end of the game, Reg is lifted on to Twist's shoulders. Now it was probably because he's the tallest of the boys and most probably the strongest...but still...I can get what I want out of the moment. And then in Reggie/Regina, when Trent is telling Reggie she should stay back because the waves were "a little too harsh for a beginner", Twister had a consortium of face contortions, ranging from confused, to stunned, to appalled...all together, he looked a little aghast at Trent. I think that Trent wouldn't be best with Reggie, because he doesn't seem to get her (as was evident in the Scrummage episode when he said, "I just didn't think you'd like the game."), and he seems to me the type who likes to be around girly types of girls. He liked hanging out with Reggie when she was going by Regina. Yup.  
I also wanted to point out the intro to Rocket Power. You've all seen it hundreds of times probably, but never noticed or paid heed to, the small part where Reggie is skating beside Twister, who's videotaping her; and he does this little smile/shrug thing. I thought it was interesting...I'll have to pay _closer _attention to the intro. And then there's the time when she comes down the mountain on snowboard, and bites her lower lip while shaking the camera, which is most obviously held by Twister (who else?) Ahh....little things I notice. Oh! And _then_, I wanted to point out, that girl's tend to fall for guys who are kind of like their father (not saying it's always a good thing.) Like for instance, a girl who's father mistreats her and never tells her she's beautiful or can do anything she wants, usually finds a guy who treats her like shit. I, for one, always find myself attracted to intelligient, yet cynical kind of guys (much like my father). Anyways, I don't know if any of you realized how similar Twister is to Ray. Both aren't exactly the brightest (ie. (The Lingos) Tito: Maybe words aren't your vocation, Ray: My vacation?; (Don't know...) Tito: He who rubs his enemy's face in the sand gets buried in the sand, too., Twister: You think I should bury Lars in the sand?; (The Lingos) Ray: Cool-o-roonie, Twister: Golly gee willikers) and both have good hearts and know to do the right thing (in the end...). A lot of people who support R/S pairings say it's because they're so similar. They're into the same things, like computers, and they're both smart. They argue that Twister isn't smart enough or whatnot for Reg. But they're completely missing out on the whole "love" part of the relationship. Who cares that he's not a cracker jack brainiac, Twister's a sweet guy, and he understands Reg and totally respects her. Not to mention, SAM AND REG ACT LIKE SIBLINGS! There's a part in Reggie/Regina, where Reggie is telling Sam "books go in the backpack," and helping him put them in there. Like an older sister. It's just two different personas...the way she acts towards Sam as opposed to the way she acts towards Twister.  
The last thing I wanted to point out...if you read all that up there...is that, well, in the series they are at the age when boys and girls express their interest in one another through, well, mostly teasing and stuff. Reg busts on Twister a lot (ie. (Loss of Squid) Twister: If you can't stand the heat, stay out of the street., Reggie: Gee, Twist, you're a real poet), and Twister does goof on Reg often. I bring up the episode (I think it's called Follow the Leader), when Otto and Twist get in a fight and Otto tells Twister to try being the captain of their hockey team. There's a part where Twister is blindfolding Reggie and she says, "You're not going to pour pudding on my head again, like you did at Otto's birthday, are you?" Any special reason he felt the need to pour pudding on Reggie's head? Maybe he has a crush he can't quite understand? An undeniable need to get Reg's attention? Do you guys see where I'm going with this...?

O-kay. Did anyone read all of that? Why am I trying to convince you guys that Reg and Twist are a good couple; you're all reading my fic, right? Which means you already think that. Sorry, I just like to point things out.

Please excuse any grammatical and typing errors, as well as unwarranted ramblings from the author.

_**REVIEW**_s are always appreciated. Oh what the heck, PLEASE _**REVIEW**_ MY DAMN STORY, IT'S ALL I ASK! I wrote the thing, I did my part, now do yours!

I apologize.

Thanks for reading. (Anyone want to debate with me about the Reg/Twist, Reg/Sam, Reg/Trentthing?)


	12. A Dim Light In the Dark pt5

A/N: This wasn't the one I wanted to update first...but then my laptop went kaput (long story, I blame the manufacturer) and all my plans went up in smoke. But I think I'm starting to get the feel back for killing the daisies...which means that might get updated real soon...(maybe, no promises).

Thanks for the reviews guys, you all rock!

Warina-kinomoto: Hold on to that poor Twister until you've finished reading this chapter...you'll need it.

ASailorsGirl: Sorry it took so long...but as I said, KAPUT! Anywhoo...I still am crazy.

Amy: Thanks. Twister's not going to tell her for awhile...but I guess I'll give it to you (not direct translation, just the gist) He's basically just telling her he loves her, and that he's already decided she's the one he wants to marry. You can see why he got real embarrassed and couldn't tell her what he'd said...yup...glad I'm not alone on that 'intro' thing, I'd really start to feel like I'm crazy. I was talking to my cousin about the issue, and you know what? SHE'S A REG/SQUID SUPPORTER! I was so infuriated, I was ready to pull out all my quirky Reg/Twist moments, and it took all my will power to hold my tongue! Because I pulled that shit out on her when I was convincing her of a TJ/Spin relationship (which I was successful at). She said that Twister probably does have a thing for Reg, but REG WOULD BE CUTER WITH SQUID! AND that she thought Twister and Reg acted more like siblings! I was appalled. I just can't see it...the idea of it kind of sickens me and I don't know why...I know, I know, I have issues.

RoxySurferGurl623: I love your long reviews! Keep writing them, I love reading them. All the babble, everything, it makes me smile. You should never be embarrassed by your background. I have a Chinese friend, she asks me why I tell people I'm Japanese (because I'm only a quarter) and I got in this whole argument with her about it, because she's all telling me "you're not Japanese", and I'm like, "dude, yes I am!" AND, it's not like I tell people I'm full Japanese. And sometimes when I'm feeling cheeky, when people ask me what I am, I tell 'em "I'm American. You?" They don't really appreciate that response. All the programs I mentioned, I would actually recommend be used on a Mac (which is the graphic designers' computer of choice), as opposed to a PC. But iMovie?Dump that shit. Final Cut Pro is my preference when it comes to video editing, I already mentioned I prefer Director over Flash, but I would recommend you learn Director first and then try out Flash. It's easier that way. For photo editing, definitely Adobe Photoshop, for simple work, Adobe Illustrator, Bryceis a great 3D Design program, but 3D Studio Max is perhaps the best choice in that department. And I also mentioned InDesign, which is my recommendation for paper layout. If I were to run my own 'Zine, that would definitely be the program I'd use. But then, these are all highly _expensive_ programs, so I would suggest them only to the serious graphics designer, or, if you know a person that can pirate them for you (which I _NEVER_ suggested you do...hehe....) The whole "Made" thing is cool, but I still think you should discuss it with your mother _before _you get the tat. Tell her what you want, that you put serious thoughtbehind it, _research_ the parlor you want to go to, and you'll gain serious points in the trust department. Who knows? Maybe she'll let you get your cartilage pierced. If not, well...you can always do it anyways when you're eighteen.

VUWildcat: Eh? Hm...forgetting the accent, am I? Aw...well, shit. Why do people keep telling me, "it's not to criticize, it's to help"? Dude, take a chill pill. About the statement, "No soy poco", I knew it sounded wrong, but I really didn't feel any need to change it. Why? Because I'm lazy. No, that's not a good enough excuse. Because my brain is lazy, and I didn't want to take the time to think things through...but actually, in this chapter, I had to pull out my old Spanish workbook, so some phrases should be better written...i hope...I barely passed Spanish...why? Because I didn't want to take the damn class! And my teacher sucked.

writingonpaper: That's flattering, that you like my story so much. Um...hope you did good on your tests, and uh...I think you spelled the word right. If not, oh well, you're not entering a Spelling Bee anytime soon, are you? Why do they call it a spelling 'bee', I don't get it...? Are bees notoriously good spellers? Why does that sound like something I've heard before?

TheAngelofAnarchy: I don't have to catch buses anymore...I HAVE A CAR!

peachy15: Here we are...whatis Sherry going to tell Reggie? What did Reg win? And why will Twist be bummed about it? I know, you're just brimming with excitement. I just watched Half-Twister (which is now one of my favorite episodes), and there's a moment where Reggie's saying, "I'm really worried about him Twister" and then looks to the other guys and says, "Don't tell him I said that." I thought it was cute. Why? Is she worried he'll get the wrong (or maybe _right_) idea? I know, I know, I have issues.

HA!

ENJOY!

* * *

Chapter 5

"Okay, Sherry, take a deep breath," Reggie said evenly into the phone, "What did I win?"

"Remember when we had to take that poll, for the best of the best…you know, for year book," Sherry questioned, her voice stressed, "Did you look at the ballot?"

"Not really, no…" Reggie mumbled sheepishly, twisting the cord around her fingers, "That was last week, huh? You see…my journalism class was moved to the gym…and it was the same period Twist had P.E., and that was when they held the voting and…well, _he was drawing on my hand what was I supposed to do_? But what did I win…?"

"Cutest couple…" Sherry whispered.

"That's not so bad…"

"With Ricky."

"That's bad."

"Are you gonna tell Twister? He'll find out anyways, on Monday," Sherry said. Reggie sat up, fretfully running her hand through her hair.

"I don't know…I can't…oh man," Reggie moaned, "He's always at Ricky's throat…he's going to be so tweaked! If he didn't want to whomp Ricky before…oh man. How could I win cutest couple with _Ricky_? We're not even a couple…we never were!"

"Well, Reg…when you agreed to go out with him…that's not exactly the story he spread around," Sherry told her quietly, "And you and Twist are recent…nobody really _knows _you two are dating. You guys were always hanging out…so…nobody really thinks it's odd he's walking you to class and you two are eating lunch together everyday, and hanging in the halls, and walking to and from school and…"

"I get it, Sherry," Reggie snapped, "What do I do?"

"I guess you could turn the title down…"

"Great, that's what I'll do!"

"Except Ricky's already accepted it for the both of you," Sherry interjected, "He made it out to be a big joke, he thinks it's funny…he's being really cool about it…and…it's not a big deal. You two are friends after all…Twister will understand…it's not your fault…"

"I hope you're right…"

-0-0-

Otto sat back on his bed. He glanced at the digital clock on his side table. 3:57 pm. He looked at his reflection in the full length mirror hanging on the back of his door. He had on a neat clean shirt, he'd brushed his teeth, washed his face. He'd thought about doing something with his hair, but he really didn't have a lot of options. It was either tied up on his head in a ratty tail or hanging all over the place and held out of his face with his headband. He'd chosen to use his headband.

"Otto?" Reggie's voice drifted from the hall, and she lightly tapped his door.

"Yeah?"

"Shouldn't you be leaving?"

"I'll leave when I'm ready," he snapped. He heard her shuffling outside and a door shut. She'd left. He sighed, lifting himself up, grabbing his book bag and jacket and retreated from his room. He paused in front of Reggie's door, considering things a moment before knocking.

"What?" she called.

"Can I come in?"

"Fine, whatever."

Otto opened the door. Reggie was sitting on her bed. Her books were spread out already, a pile of completed homework and the accompanying textbooks stacked to one side. Little tufts of paper were sticking out, her neat curvy handwriting swooping along the white. She had tied her hair up, and was dressed in an oversized shirt and boxer shorts. She was barefoot and sat cross legged. Otto frowned. Sometimes, just sometimes, she didn't look like his sister. Sometimes, she looked like a girl. That bothered him. Draped near the closet on a hanger was a new garment, light pink with lavish layers of skirt.

"So that's the thing, huh?" he blurted out.

"That _would _be my new dress," Reggie muttered.

"It's nice," he commented. It wasn't a smooth way to start a conversation.

"You mean, it's nice for a girl," Reggie sneered almost cynically. There was a hint of hurt in her voice, and something more that Otto couldn't quite place. But then, he never could figure his sister's moods out, so he let it go.

"Twister told me your guys' date went well," he attempted a subject change.

"Uh huh," Reggie murmured, she smiled softly, picking up her pillow to hold, "He was sweet. I still have to give him his sweater back…I can do that tonight," she frowned somewhat, "I just wish he wouldn't of been so harsh to Ricky…"

"Why?" Otto demanded, his temper suddenly flaring, "That guy's a total tool."

"Ricky didn't give Twist any reason to be on the offense!"

"That you know about," Otto roared, "Jeez, Reg, who you gonna side with? Your boyfriend, who you've known your whole life, or Ricky, who doesn't exactly have a very good track record for being a good guy?"

"I'm not siding with anyone," Reggie shot back, "I'm just saying, Twister didn't have to be such a jerk. Ricky comes off a little strong around people who don't know him…"

"And those who do, just plain hate him," Otto retorted, "The guy has it out for Twist, and Twister's just reacting to him."

"He was ready to swing fists," Reggie started.

"And maybe he should've," Otto replied, "Why you ragging on Twist so hard about this? You'd really mess up your relationship with him for some blonde pretty boy prick?"

"No," Reggie spat, "I…I'm just saying, Twister could have acted better about the situation. He was acting like a child…"

"It's Twister, Reg, what did you honestly expect?" Otto interjected.

"I don't know. Maturity, maybe?"

"Reg, I repeat, it's Twister. Just because you're dating him, doesn't mean he's going to suddenly transform into Mr. Grown-up, responsible, all-intelligent, all mature, unconditionally understanding, completely sensitive, perfect boyfriend guy," Otto pointed out, shaking his head and shrugging, "Wave your magic girlfriend wand all you want and beg and plead with your fairy godmother. He's still going to be just Twister." Reggie slumped.

"I hate to admit this, Rocket boy," she conceded, "But you're right. I just wish…sometimes, he weren't so childish." They were silent. Reggie glanced at her clock, "Otto, shouldn't you be leaving?"

"Oh, shit…yeah," he cried, "Later, Reg." He raced out the door, and startled when he found a young man standing on the steps. He grinned, "Hey, Twist, when'd you get here?"

"Uh…just now," Twister mumbled, smiling somewhat feebly.

"Cool," Otto told him, "Reg is upstairs. I'll catch ya' later. I'm off to study…why does that sound so weak?"

"Don't think too hard, Otto-man," Twister muttered, watching his friend leave the house. He moved slowly up the stairs, frowning. He knocked on Reggie's door. It seemed inappropriate, as the door was already partially open. He could see her messing with her stereo, searching for a CD from her rack. Her collection wasn't even half the size of his.

"Come in," she called, when she heard him.

"Hey, Reg," he greeted silently. She turned, smiling. He felt the need to say something, though nothing seemed right. "You have a lot of books," he finally commented.

"I was reviewing my homework," she explained. He lifted a hardback, God Emperor of Dune by Frank Herbert. She shrugged, "Sam lent it to me."

"It's huge," Twister noted, examining the thick tome.

"I'm only on the fifth chapter, and I've had it over three months. Sam's developing an ulcer, lending me books," she laughed and Twister chuckled slightly. She turned a CD on and drum beats pounded from the speakers real low. She crossed the room to him, and neither was certain what to say to the other.

"_…Do you have the time, to listen to me whine…about nothing and everything all I want…_"

"I'm sorry," he finally spoke up, and Reggie looked at him inquiringly, "About the dress."

"It was stupid anyways…"

"No. It wasn't," Twister took her hands, distractedly entwining them with his own, his cheeks a deep red, "The Rocket girl I know…that I've always liked, didn't wear dresses. And I guess…I guess I didn't make it clear. You're still the same, I suppose, with a dress. But I don't want you to change…too much…wearing dresses all the time and not shredding with us anymore…like other girls."

"Don't worry about it, Twist," Reggie told him, untangling their hands and plopping to her bed. She flipped open her Spanish workbook and looked to him expectantly. He sat down next to her, looking over her shoulder at the writing. He frowned, pointing to one of the sentences written out.

"What's this?" he asked.

"It's Spanish," she said matter-of-factly, "_You speak Spanish_, remember?"

"Yeah…but…" he trailed off, "Never mind."

"Let's see…um…" Reggie brought her pencil to her lips, tapping it lightly, "I'm working on sentence structure first. Here. Yo soy de California…" she read aloud, "Yo soy Californian…um…Yo soy diecisiete años…" Twister's brow furrowed.

"What's with all the 'yo'?" he asked.

"We have to write them all out like that," Reggie explained, "Why?"

"No reason, it's just kind of annoying. Let's see…um…soy de California…soy Californian…" he repeated, then frowned, "Soy diecisiete años? What is that?"

"I am seventeen…?"

"Oh…no, no," Twister mumbled, "Es 'tengo diecisiete años'…no 'soy'. Get rid of that."

"But…tengo…isn't that 'I have'? That doesn't make sense. 'I have seventeen years'?"

"I guess…like, 'tengo hambre'…um…'tengo miedo'…'tengo sed'…'tengo frio'…it's just the way it is…I don't know how else to explain it," he shrugged. Reggie groaned, falling back onto her pillows.

"I'm never going to get this language!" she cried and Twister snickered. She looked at him in mock anger, "Are you laughing at me?"

"No," he replied innocently, "Come on, Reg, it's not that hard. 'Tengo' doesn't just mean 'I have'…it changes. There's…um…like, tengo calor is 'I am hot'…but then there's 'tengo ganas de gritar'…um…oh…didn't your teacher explain this to you?"

"Well…" Reggie blushed, "She kind of sat me next to Trent…who's also taking the class."

"And?" Twister pressed, feeling a little sting at the name of the attractive New Zealander.

"Sometimes we pass notes, and talk…you know…while we're supposed to be paying attention," she went on, biting her lower lip.

"So I'm helping you, so you can talk with some other guy all period?" Twister reasoned, scowling. Reggie's mouth parted, but she found nothing to say.

"He's my friend, Twist," she finally sputtered unconvincingly. Twister folded his arms over his chest. She flipped the pages of her workbook, as though it held some answer to this unspoken question, "You're not going to get all jealous boyfriend on me, are you?"

"Reg!"

"It's not like I flirt with him or anything," Reggie cried, "Why you getting so tweaked over this? I've always talked to Trent."

"Well, you haven't always been my girlfriend," Twister argued, "But you _did _have a crush on him before…"

"Whoa, chill on that, Twist. That crush is ancient," she slumped, "He dated pretty much every girl _but _me. I got tired of waiting for it to never be my turn…and…" she smiled up at him, "Something better came along."

"Really?" Twister muttered skeptically, "What's better than 100 foreign New Zealand babe?"

"Well…100 Twisted Californian babe," Reggie smirked, watching Twister relax slightly, "You done playing the green-eyed monster?"

"My eyes aren't green…"

"That's not what I mean. And they can be green, sometimes, you know. Your eyes change colors," Reggie pointed out.

"They do? How?"

"Some people's eyes change colors," Reggie shrugged, "They're your eyes, Twist, and you don't even know they change color? Sometimes they're light brown, sometimes they're gold-ish, sometimes they're hazel and very rarely they're really light green."

"Neat. I always thought they were brown," Twister grinned, then raising an eyebrow, "Weren't we fighting?" Reggie chuckled, leaning forward to kiss him.

"What's next?" she asked the air rhetorically, flipping back to her page. She took her pencil, erasing the 'yo soy' and replacing it with 'yo tengo'. She skimmed the long paragraph once more, "Um…I was supposed to write three things I like, and three things I don't like. I feel like I'm in kindergarten again…" she mumbled, "Uh…Me gusta la playa, y me gusta voleibol… y me gusta patinar. Um…no me gusta…caer, y no me gusta hacer nadar…y no me gusta…what's the word for rain…?"

"Lluvia," Twister murmured, flipping through one of Reggie's Zines. He'd already read the issue, but he had to preoccupy himself with something.

"Oh," Reggie wrote the word down, frowning at him, "What's wrong? Bored?"

"What do you mean by 'no me gusta hacer nadar'?"

"Well…I _don't _like doing nothing."

"Then why is it nadar?"

"Well, I thought that…"

"Me gusta hacer nada. Not nadar. Nada is nothing," Twister clarified. He grinned at her, "You know, this is the first time I've ever helped you with your homework." She smiled half-heartedly.

"I wish I wasn't making so many mistakes," she told him, "I must sound like an idiot."

"It's not your fault if you do," Twister reassured her, "It's the stupid assignment. Yo this, yo that, yo, yo, yo…no me gusta…me gusta, me gusta…no me gusta…" Reggie shook her head, laughing, "I thought they were teaching you to speak Spanish…not kill it."

Reggie sighed, crawling across the bed to settle her back against Twister's chest, his arms wrapped around her. She held her book out.

"Well…maybe you can help me conjugate these damn verbs," she said.

"Conjugate?" Twister narrowed his eyes at the book, "What's that?"

"You don't know what it means to conjugate the verb?" Reggie asked, looking to him almost exasperatedly, "Like, for the verb tener…Yo tengo, tu tiene, nosotros tenemos, ellos tienen…"

"Oh, I get it…" Twister chirruped cheerfully, "Lay it on me, Reg."

"I'm having trouble with this one…" she mumbled, chewing the eraser on her pencil, "These irregular present-tense verbs…decir, venir, and oír. Especially oír…"

"What's the problem?"

"They're difficult to remember…the spelling, the word is hard to say…I don't know, it's just difficult," she shifted, "Help me conjugate these sentences."

"M'kay," Twister said, moving slightly to take the book, "After a break."

"Twist!" Reggie cried, "We just got started…come on." She turned, trying to retrieve the text, and he maneuvered it behind his back, smiling broadly.

"I'm bored of this, Reg," he moaned, "We have plenty of time to get it done!"

"Oh, and what do _you _want to do?" Reggie questioned, a hunch already in mind. Twister rolled his eyes up, smiling innocently.

Reggie shook her head, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her lips against his own. He leaned back onto the bed, gently pulling her atop him, his hands lightly around each side of her hips. One of her hands came down to slip under his shirt, eagerly seeking to trail along skin. He squirmed somewhat, relaxing as she placed a kiss on his neck and collar bone and curled the fingers of her other hand in his shirt against his chest.

"You know," she breathed against his neck, "Spanish is fun." He grinned, catching her lips once more, their mouths parting slightly. There was a sound in the hall, and the door stood widely open.

"Hey, princess, it was a slow day and we closed the Shack early. So, how about dinner with your…"

Reggie and Twister sat up as best they could, looking at the gaping older man. Ray was blank faced, staring at them ghostly pale, his mouth hinged open, his eyes wide as saucers.

"Hi dad," Reggie greeted breathlessly, meekly, swallowing hard. Her face flushed as she realized her shirt was lifted up halfway. Twister's hand rested on the middle of her back, thumb slipped beneath her bra.

It seemed to be mere seconds later that Ray had Twister roughly held by the arm half-dragging, half-shoving the young man down the stairs. Reggie followed behind, desperately trying to explain things to her father as she redid her pony-tail.

"Ow! Raymundo, you're hurting my arm," Twister was crying, "_Oww_!"

"Dad, we were just studying! It's just Twister! Will you let him go!" Reggie shouted, trying to keep up with her father as he shoved Twister to the bottom floor. The redhead immediately brought his hand up to rub his sore bicep, only for Ray to jerk him towards the front door.

"_Just studying_?" Ray roared incredulously, "If _that _was studying, things sure have changed since I was in high school! You know the rules, _Regina_, no boyfriends in the house when you're home alone! No boyfriends over at night, and most definitely, _no boyfriends in your room_! Especially not in your bed…"

"But dad, it's Twister…"

"And whether I like it or not, he's now your boyfriend…"

"Will you stop and listen?" Reggie demanded, grabbing her dad's arm. Ray paused, Twister grimacing as the older man shook him to a halt, tightening the grip on his arm. "It's Twister, dad."

"Why does everyone keep telling me that?" Ray snapped, "I know it's Twister."

"You've known him his whole life," Reggie cried, "You know what he's more or less capable of, and you know he's harmless…"

"Yes, I do. And I also know he's the younger brother of Lars Rodriguez, another kid I've known a long time. And I know what Lars is capable of," Ray spat, looking to Twister disapprovingly, "And I also know that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree." Twister frowned.

"Apple? What's he talking about?" Twister cried, completely flabbergasted, looking to Reggie.

"Dad, you know Twister isn't like that," Reggie argued, "That him and Lars' are completely different! And you know that Lars isn't that bad, that the Rodriguezes raiseed their kids just as good as you did yours! If you trust me, then you should be able to trust Twister!"

"Is he hungry?" Twister continued, "Does he want me to get him an apple?"

"I understand what you're trying to say, Reggie," Ray growled, "But what I saw is a completely different story!"

"Falling apples? Does he want me to pick up apples?"

"Dad, Twister wouldn't try anything! We wouldn't do anything! We were _just _kissing!" Reggie screamed.

"Does he think I should find out how far away from the tree apples fall?"

"Oh no! I saw where that punk had his hands…" Ray seethed.

"Dad," Reggie pressed, looking meaningfully to Twister. Ray faltered, looking to the young man as well.

"Does he think I should plant an apple tree?"

Ray quirked an eyebrow, stroking his chin.

"You make a good point," he mused, "But that doesn't change the fact he _is _your boyfriend, now."

"I know, dad. But Twister's been in my room before, I've been home alone with him before, _and_ I've shared a bed with him before. We didn't suddenly lose our common sense because we started dating," Reggie insisted, "We're smart kids," she paused, looking to Twister doubtfully, "_I'm _a smart kid. Can you maybe trust us a little?"

"You need to see this from my perspective, princess. With your other boyfriends, I knew I could trust you, because you would never let your guard down with them. You didn't know them well enough. It's the fact that he _has _been in your room, and he _has _been here alone with you, and he _has _shared a bed with you, that bothers me the most. You're too familiar with each other, and that worries me," Ray sighed, "But I guess I could cut you two _some_ slack because I do know Twister's a good kid. How about if I alter the ground rules a slight bit?"

"How slight?"

"Let's see…he can be over when you're home alone…but not in your bedroom," Ray suggested, "And not at night."

"I guess we can do that," Reggie conceded.

"He is Otto's best friend, so he'll probably still stay the night over…and I suppose he can be in your room so long as someone is home and the door is _wide_ open. You think you can follow these rules?"

"_Wide_ open? We do have these raging hormones, Raymundo, do you really want a demonstration?"

"Okay, okay…open…say, a foot?"

"Can do," Reggie sighed, grabbing Twister's hand.

"But how would I get an apple tree…and where would I plant it?" he asked. Reggie rolled her eyes.

"Give it a rest, Twist," she told him, "No more breaks tonight, cool?" Twister glanced back to Ray, whose eyes read 'death'.

"Yeah," he whimpered, "Cool."

-0-0-

Otto waved over his shoulder as he jogged down the walk of the Rodriguez house. It was starting to get late, and darkness was just beginning to settle in on the small cul-de-sac. He paused, spying Sam practicing a simple heel flip on his skateboard. He grinned as the proclaimed Squid beefed.

"You're not kicking the board early enough," Otto spoke up and Sam startled.

"Hey, didn't see you there," Sam cleared his throat, popping his board up into his hands and walking to stand in front of Otto, "I just can't seem to get it," he sighed, "Too soon, too late. I nailed it once…but then…you guys all make it look so easy."

"That's 'cause it is easy," Otto laughed, receiving a look of hurt, "Sorry, dude. You've gotten a lot better…but I forget simple stuff still throws you."

"How'd the study sesh go?" Sam asked, attempting to change the subject.

"Fine, I guess…Cleo only pointed out every little mistake I made," Otto groaned, "And here I thought I understood Spanish…"

"Understanding it and speaking it are two different things. I don't know if Cleo's the best tutor for the job…"

"You think I should have gotten Twist?"

"No. I mean, they both speak Spanish fluently. They'd use slang, and slack off on certain things the teacher wants you to do. They're also…well…American, which means…well…they probably speak a sort of Spanglish…they don't speak the way they would in actual Latin countries," Sam clarified.

"Dude, Twister and Cleo were both born and lived in Mexico…"

"Twister was born in Mexico?" Sam nearly choked.

"Yeah, you didn't know?"

"Well…I thought…"

"He was born here?" Otto guessed, grinning, "No. He moved here when he was four, and he goes back to Mexico every Summer."

"I knew _that_…but he goes to a more commercial area of Mexico and I thought…"

"That he went where everybody spoke English? No, dude. I don't know where they go exactly…but it's not one of the big tourist cities," Otto shrugged, "I think it's one of the more rural towns. Twister doesn't talk about it a lot. In case you haven't noticed, he's not big on sharing when it comes to his family and shit. He just likes to complain about them."

"Yeah, why's he like that? He doesn't talk about his heritage much, doesn't speak Spanish in front of us…"

"I don't know," Otto interjected, "That's just how he is. No big deal. So, Sam, if you didn't think Cleo was the best tutor choice for me, then who did you think I should have gone with?"

"Well, I was available," Sam cleared his throat, signifying the hurt in his tone, "I took Spanish, for four years. I aced it every year…I studied it on my own before that…you could have asked me to help you."

"You mad 'cause me and Reg didn't think to ask you for help?" Otto demanded, then shaking his head in good humor, "Didn't know school work was _that _important to you."

"No, I'm not…" Sam frowned, kicking at the sidewalk, "It's lame anyways." They fell silent. Sam coughed slightly, "So, how you handling the Reg, Twist thing?"

"It's cool, I guess," Otto mumbled, "I don't know…I mean, I don't get it, really. What do they see in each other? I know it's lame to bag on my best bro, but he ain't exactly the brainiac, suave, macho guys Reg usually dates."

"I know what you mean. Twister is cool to hang out with, but can you imagine what he's like on a date," Sam joked, grinning, "Holding a conversation's not really his strong point."

"Maybe they just make-out the whole time," Otto muttered, then groaning, "Ew…maybe they _do _just make-out the whole time!" The boys broke into laughter. They stopped when they heard the sound of plodding footsteps nearby. Twister was making his way down the street towards his house staring at the pavement. He walked past them slowly.

"Hey, Twist," Sam greeted. Twister looked up shortly, nodding and smiling reluctantly.

"Reg learn anything?" Otto called.

"I guess…" Twister mumbled, pausing and rubbing his arm, "I learned not to make-out with your sister in her room when Raymundo's home…" Otto and Sam made faces, "We were just taking a short break...it had only been for a minute," he added quietly, "I gotta go. We got dinner guests and my mom'll wig if I'm late…"

"Right," Otto said, "Later, bro."

"Later much."

Sam looked to Otto, whose face was creased with evident concern. They watched Twister enter his house, and heard the familiar click of the door shutting.

"You don't think he heard us?" Sam asked in a low conspiratorial tone.

"No way," Otto insisted, then looking towards the Rodriguez house a little doubtfully, "Even if he did…which he probably didn't…Twist is cool, he'd know we were just joking."

"But why was he acting so…"

"Raymundo must have just really jolted him. And, you know, I'd be bummed too if I had to eat dinner with some of the guests his parents bring home," Otto chuckled, "I'll see ya, Sam."

"Right, later."

-0-0-

Twister was surprised when he came in to find the Stewards had already arrived. Mr. and Mrs. Steward were sitting on the couch, Mrs. Steward already holding a glass of what appeared to be wine, an unlit cigarette held between her lips, dried red lipstick staining them. Sandy and Raul were sitting beside them, and Ricky and Lars were exchanging disinterested stares, standing in the entryway. Twister shut the door quietly, wincing when his mother called his name.

"Maurice, usted es tarde," Sandy said sharply.

"Sorry, mom," Twister mumbled, seeing Lars snicker slightly and a smug smirk play its way along Ricky's face, "I was helping Reg conjugate verbs, or something like that..."

"Le dije específicamente que tuviéramos huéspedes esta noche…(I specifically told you we were having guests tonight…)"

"I know, mom," Twister interrupted, seeing Mrs. Steward take a sip of her drink from the corner of his eye, and Mr. Steward shift uncomfortably, "I'll go get cleaned up now."

"Rápidamente," Sandy sighed, "¿Usted dirá Cleo que los Stewards están aquí, también? (Will you tell Cleo the Stewards are here, as well?)"

"Sure, mom," Twister conceded, heading up the stairs.

"Perhaps you could show me where the restroom is, as well," Ricky spoke up and Twister paused momentarily, a crude reply laying on his lips. He could feel his mother's eyes burning into him, and he held his tongue.

"Whatever," Twister muttered, and Ricky followed.

"Children can be such hard work at that age," Mrs. Steward began, her words only somewhat slurred, "So disobedient. I can say, we were lucky…Ricky _never_ gave us any trouble. He's always been such a good boy…"

Twister swung the bathroom door open, scowling at Ricky, and motioning him in. The blonde made no move to enter. Twister crossed his arms over his chest.

"How's Reggie?" Ricky asked.

"You saw her yesterday," Twister retorted.

"I know. But Nicky and I left in such a rush…Reggie wasn't upset, was she?"

"That you left? No, dude, she was overjoyed," Twister told him.

"To be left alone with you?" Ricky stated skeptically, "I can only imagine how riveting the date was…let me guess, you two exchanged friendly slaps, dared one another to ride as many roller coasters as possible, raced each other at hotdog eating, chugged soda, pal-ed around on your way home and gave one another a hearty good-bye." Twister shook his head. "I guess if you were more mature, the date would have been exceptional, something she would have told _everyone _about."

"Look, my mom's mad enough at me already for being late, so if you don't mind…save the bagging for later when my parents won't breathe down my neck for smashing your face in," Twister interrupted.

"Whatever," Ricky seethed, watching the other boy turn to leave, "To be honest, you two don't seem suited," Twister frowned, his hands tightening into fists, but trying to continue to his room, "And, of course, I'm not the only one who's noticed." He paused, turning to glower at the prude blonde.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Twister demanded. Ricky's face broke into a sly smile. He pulled a paper from his pocket.

"I guess she didn't tell you…" he said proudly, handing the paper over. Twister unfolded it, his eyes scanning the bold black lettering.

"_What?_"

"It would seem, everyone thinks your girlfriend looks better with me," Ricky grinned. Twister stepped forward, before a hand latched onto his arm.

"Maurice, va a su dormitorio (Maurice, go to your bedroom)," Cleo's voice whispered harshly in his ear, "¡_Ahora_!"

Twister turned abruptly, pushing past Cleo, not even bothering to look at her, and storming into his room. He slammed the door shut. A knock shortly followed. He fell on his bed, picking up the stuffed creature Reggie had won for him at the amusement park, frowning, and turning the creature in his hands, laying it on his stomach.

"¿Quién es él?" he demanded sourly.

"Su primo preferido," came the tart reply.

"Come in," Twister said resignedly. The door opened and Cleo slunk into the room, shutting the door behind her. She leaned back and folded her arms over her stomach, sighing slightly. "¿Qué quiere?" Twister asked.

"¿Cuál estaba esa conversación todo alrededor?"

"Nada."

"It didn't look like nada."

"Salga, Cleo," Twister snapped, turning on his side.

"¿Cuál es el apuro?" Cleo pressed, "¿Qué ese gringo dice trastornarle tanto? And don't tell me 'nada', because he said something."

"Look, you know how you don't get what Reggie sees in me?" Twister spat, "Well, you're not the only one. But they can all get what she would see in a prick like Ricky…" He thrust the paper over to Cleo, who glanced it before frowning.

"Estaba enojado que dia, Maurice (I was angry that day, Maurice)," she whispered, "No signifiqué lo que dije. (I did not mean what I said.)"

"No. You did, Cleo," Twister sighed, sitting up, "Because it's true. Reggie should be with some guy who's mature, and smart, and wants to see her in nice dresses and short skirts, and…some guy like Ricky. Everybody sees it, Reggie and Ricky, they make a cute couple, huh? The perfect fucking couple. Because he's older, drives a fancy car, he's sophisticated, responsible…Reg _should _be with a guy like that…"

"Maurice, listen to me," Cleo said sternly, "Reggie le eligió. Su corazón sabe lo más mejor posible quién es perfecto para ella. Confianza en su corazón. (Reggie chose you. Her heart knows best who is perfect for her. Trust in her heart.)"

"Sure, Cleo," Twister muttered, "I'll see you downstairs."

"Right," Cleo nodded, hesitantly exiting the room.

Twister chewed the inside of his cheek, taking the little green creature and swaying it from side to side. He placed it back in the corner of his bedside table, heading to his closet to change shirts. He frowned at the mirror.

"Trust in Reg's heart…" he murmured, "I don't know what Reg's heart wants…but I know what she wants…" he rubbed the back of his neck, his muscles tense from anxiousness and frustration, "She wants maturity. She wants me to stop acting like a child…I can do that…maybe…if I had help…"

* * *

END A/N: Poor Twister, huh? What a way to find out your girl just got voted a cuter couple with some other guy...

Moment of truth: Originally, Twister and Reg were the ones that were going to be voted the cutest couple, but I decided to take a different direction with that...obviously, huh? Soon, I'm going to write up all the characters' different views of Twister and Reggie's relationship, and Trent is going to make an appearance. I'm also going to start in on Otto's romance in this, but I want to take a general concensus, first. I already decided who he's going to end up with and how I'm gonna go about it, but I just want to see where everyone else stands; Otto and Cleo, or Otto and Trish. I don't think Trent is going to get a romance, as I haven't given him a big role in this story. Why? Because I don't like Trent. He talks funny. No, that's not why. HAHAHA! I'm just joshing you guys. But honestly, I don't like Trent.

I think my new favorite episode, though, is All About Sam, which introduces the character Josh (who needs to make an appearance in one of my ff's). No Reg/Twist moments I can think of right now (though I know there are some), but it just reinforces the relationship the gang has, and I like that. Mostly it just reinforces the rest of the gang's loyalty to Sam, despite how different he is from the rest of them. It pulled at my heartstrings...sniffles...

But I think if I ever see the episode Twister's Hat, that it will probably easily be my favorite episode, that or Cinco de Twisto (is that the title). Yeah, I've still yet to see the entire series. They keep showing the same damn episodes, and it's driving me insane!

I bought CDs the other day that I probably shouldn't have. I'm good for the money, but I should be saving. My account is still hurting from Christmas. I got a few of the old CDs that I wanted a long time ago but couldn't afford before. Offspring: Americana, Weezer: The Blue Album, Greenday:Nimrod (my favorite band), and Sublime: Gasoline Alley.

On an offnote, have you all seen the U2 song...um...I don't remember what it's called. The new one. Anyhoo, in the beginning, he counts in Spanish right? Uno, dos, tres, catorce? The band is getting serious heat for that one! Everybody thinks they're complete idiots. For any few readers out there who don't get the joke, they're counting in Spanish (uno is one, dos is two, tres is three, and catorce is fourteen). The first time I saw it (I was watching some music channel and the video came on...I think it was MTV, TRL?) I heard the counting, and I kind of looked at the screen like "what the hell...did he just...?" and then I started laughing, because people were writing in and totally ragging on them. It was funny as hell!

Oh, and the song that came on in the Reg/Twist scene, is Basketcase by Greenday (my favorite Greenday song...it came on my radio when I was writing the scene...so...uh...). I was actually thinking of using Take It Off by the Donnas, but I changed my mind. Maybe next chapter I'll tell you guys about the different music tastes the characters are sporting in this story...as you have probably been able to figure out, music is pretty important in my story...well, to me anyways.

Okay, um...please excuse any grammatical and typing errors.

Drop me a line (aka REVIEW!). And tell me what kind of shipper you are. Otto/Cleo or Otto/Trish. I'm just curious...maybe it will sway the story...(not likely).

Thanks for Reading, my peeps! I know, I know...issues...

_...now, he's getting a tattoo...yeah, he's getting ink done...he asked for a 13, but they drew a 31!...AND ALL THE GIRLS SAY HE'S PRETTY FLY FORA WHITE GUY!... - _Pretty Fly for a White Guy by Offspring.


	13. A Dim Light In the Dark pt6

A/N: Gotta rush, Rocket Power comes on soon...

Thanks for the reviews, guys!

WritingonPaper: I came in second in a spelling bee once. Long story made short, I was jipped because we were running out of class time.

VUWildcat: What are you thinking?!? I hope your minds not in the gutter on this issue...

Warina-Kinomoto: I liked writing their studying scene. That one was just in my mind for a long time.

CSIForensicnut09: Maybe I'll check it out. I make no promises. I'm glad you liked the apple talk, because I wasn't certain how that one would go over. I hate Ricky too.

ASailorsGirl: Yeah, you can use Ricky if you want. Go for it! I'd be flattered. JUST WRITE YOUR FANFIC SO I CAN READ IT!

peachy15: Yeah, they changed so much in that series from the actual comic book. I guess the show's still good though. My dad's suggested Charlize Theoron (Sp??) for Sue Storms. He showed me a pic of her and I totally agree. I remember that scene from All About Sam, and you're right, it is cute.

HavokSin: Well, thanks for finally reviewing then. Yeah, Twist is absolutely adorable. I love him so.

KCluvsMI: They wouldn't really be related...

RoxySurferGurl623: I'm glad my ff has such an affect on you. I hope your family and friends don't start thinking you're insane...If your friends ever tell you that PCs are better for graphics, tell them SD says they're complete idiots (no offense), MACS ARE THE GRAPHIC DESIGNERS COMP OF CHOICE! Show me a professional graphic designer that doesn't use a Mac and I'll show you an unsuccessful graphic designer. And I hope everything works out with your tat. My parents were the other way around. My dad hates tats, but he has no say, and he doesn't really care.

Amy: Just so you know, I broke out laughing after reading your review. You made my day.

I found my Aqua CDs the other day. Guess what I'm listening to right now.

ENJOY!

* * *

Chapter 6

Sandy served the dinner, smiling pleasantly. She'd made roast beef, not one of her specialties, but it came out right and she was proud of it. Lars was seated next to Twister, Cleo and Ricky across from them. Raul and Sandy sat at one end of the table, the Stewards at the other.

"We lived in Argentina for a short period of time," Mr. Steward was saying, "Honduras for seven months, Brazil, Columbia for three -"

" -Horrifying" Mrs. Steward put in.

" - Weeks. Thank you, Beverly. Spain was nice, Chile, but I can't say we've ever been to Mexico," Mr. Steward finished.

"New Mexico is the closest we've ever gotten," Mrs. Steward hiccupped.

"Beverly couldn't survive down there, anyways," Mr. Steward laughed, "She barely survived the other countries. She's the only one in the family that never retained any of the language."

"What do I need to speak Spanish for?" Beverly demanded, "My son speaks the language well enough," she leaned over the table, patting Ricky's arm before taking a deep swill of her wine. Twister narrowed his eyes at the other boy and he could see Lars' tense. Both knew how well he could speak the language.

"Yes, Ricky is quite something," Mr. Steward said proudly, "He's working his way to speaking more languages than me."

"Our boys both learned English quite fast," Sandy smiled, placing a slab of roast on Lars' plate, "Of course, Maurice did have a little trouble when it came to the word bathroom. When we went out we told them they could only speak English, we wanted them to learn the language better. Because he couldn't remember the word 'bathroom' Maurice never spoke up when he needed to go. Once, we were at a fancy restaurant and…"

"_Mom_!" Twister cried in shock, and Lars broke into an uproar of laughter, Cleo giggled slightly and Raul smiled to his son.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Maurice," he assured the embarrassed boy, "You were only six." Twister slumped, poking at his mashed potatoes in disgust.

"Ricky was always a good boy when it came to the bathroom," Mrs. Steward boasted, "He was toilet trained at an early age. He was so eager to learn, he just up and taught himself."

"Well, isn't he Mister perfect," Twister muttered under his breath and Lars elbowed him.

"Maurice, sit up," Sandy snapped. Twister straightened, "How is Reggie doing?"

"Fine," Twister mumbled. Sandy turned her attention to the Stewards.

"Reggie is Maurice's girlfriend," she explained, and they nodded. Twister's cheeks turned red, "She lives across the street. She's a very sweet girl, always watching out for our little Maurice, ever since he was little. She was his babysitter…"

"She wasn't my babysitter!" Twister cried, receiving a stern glare from his mother, "I mean…she wasn't my babysitter, ma'am."

"Reggie? Wasn't that the girl, Ricky, that you took out on a date?" Mrs. Steward questioned, and her son made to shake his head.

"Yeah, they went on a date, before she was my girlfriend," Twister grinned, "She said it was lame, and that out of sympathy she gave him a kiss on the cheek." Ricky scowled at him, "Oh, and that the whole night she was thinking of me…"

"Sounds to me more like she's something of a…" Mrs. Steward started, but caught herself, smiling in a mock pleasantness, "Well, you know you can never be too careful with girls like that, who'll date one boy and then agree to go steady with another." Twister tensed, narrowing his eyes at her.

"You don't even know…" he began in a rough whisper.

"Maurice," Sandy said sharply, her lips pursed, "Silencio." Twister fell back, folding his arms over his chest.

"Ahem," Raul coughed, "So all the boys have something in common, they all play hockey."

"You're on the school hockey team," Ricky stated doubtfully looking at Twister, "I've never seen you at practice…"

"Twister doesn't play on the school team," Lars interrupted, "He and his dork friends play in the street league games."

"They've won the state championships four years in a row in their age group," Sandy said proudly, passing Cleo the green beans, "Their team is very good. The school wanted Maurice and Otto to play on their team, but they're already committed to the league."

"We go to see every one of his games," Raul told the Stewards, his arm strapped happily about his wife.

"This is the first year Ricky's ever been able to join a school team," Mr. Steward spoke up, "I'm going to try and make it to as many of his games as possible, but with work in the way…"

"Don't worry about it, father," Ricky interrupted, "Any time you can come is enough for me."

"You're such a good boy," Mrs. Steward cooed, "I would go to see his games, except I really don't understand the concept of the sport. It's too violent, too cold, and there's no place to smoke, if you understand what I mean."

"Ah, yes," Sandy mumbled, watching the woman light up her cigarette and puff the smoke around, waving her hand to disperse it. If there was one thing Mrs. Rodriguez did not want in her house, it was someone smoking. She folded her hands tightly in her lap, holding her tongue.

"Who's on your little team?" Ricky pressed, "Your friend Otto, obviously, but certainly not that one with the glasses."

"Sam's our goalie," Twister answered roughly, "And he's a lot better then your team's goalie."

"Really?" Ricky replied skeptically, "But then that's only three members. Three is hardly a team…"

"Reggie's on their team too," Lars put in, shoveling food into his mouth.

"The girl plays hockey?" Mrs. Steward sputtered.

"The league must have some sort of equal rights rules," Mr. Steward laughed, "Even in a children's hockey leagues…"

"No, they do not," Sandy interjected, crossing her arms over her chest, "Reggie wants to play hockey, and there is nothing in the rules against a girl playing."

"It must help that her boyfriend's on the team," Mrs. Steward commented.

"So's her brother," Twister spoke up, not quite understanding what the older woman was getting at, "He's the team captain."

"Oh," Mr. Steward said evenly, smiling as though he'd just gotten a joke, "Her brother is the team captain, you say."

"Yeah, Otto," Twister began awkwardly, "They really rip it up out there…if Reg and Otto weren't on the team, I don't think we'd really stand much of a chance."

"Duh, 'cause then you'd be half a team," Lars pointed out. Twister smiled sheepishly.

"Oh, yeah. But still…"

"This is good," Mrs. Steward commented, pointing her fork at her untouched roast beef, then looking to her son and in a very audible whisper, "What is it called in their language? I thought all they ate was beans and tacos."

"It's roast beef and mashed potatoes," Sandy said sharply, "Very American. Perhaps you have been overseas too much, you have forgotten what American food tastes like."

"Yeah, and we save the beans and tacos for family and friends," Twister threw in, stressing the word friends.

"Yeah, you know, people we like," Lars muttered under his breath to his brother.

"You're a real working man, Raul," Mr. Steward spoke up, "How do you find the time to spend with your sons?"

"Well, we eat meals together and catch up then…" Raul started, thoughtfully.

"Don't you go out and play a little sports with your kids?" Mr. Steward pressed, "Ricky and I have scheduled times each day when we go out and throw the old pigskin around."

"Pigskin?" Twister scrunched his nose, "That's sick, man."

"He means a football, doofus," Lars sneered.

"I _knew_ that," Twister snapped, sitting up and leering at his brother.

"Then you know it is really made of pigskin," Lars went on slyly, Twister's brow's drew together, "Hey, speaking of pigs, remember Gordo, abuela's cerdo? You loved Gordo, remember? You used to ride him around abuela's yard? You were so sad when he passed away…come to think of it, wasn't that around the same time you got that football for your birthday…"

"Quit it, Lars!" Twister cried, looking to his parents with grief, "Abuela didn't make a football out of Gordo, did she?"

"No, Maurice," Sandy sighed.

"Lars," Raul snapped, "That is quite enough."

"Yeah, Lars, that's enough!" Twister cried, "Abuela wouldn't do that! Footballs aren't really made of pigskin!"

"Yes they are!"

"No they're not!"

"If I say they are, then they are!"

Raul sighed, and Sandy shook her head. They could see the Stewards shifting uncomfortably, trying to ignore the bickering, and Cleo simply continued eating.

"Well…well…you're a liar! No me estoy cayendo para sus historias estúpidas este vez! (I'm not falling for your stupid stories this time!)"

"Es la clase de lame de metal que tú se cae para ellos en el primer lugar. (It's kind of lame that you fall for them in the first place.)"

"No soy lame. Tú es el que es lame."

"Boys, that is enough," Raul cleared his throat.

"¡Well, tú es un lame-o! (Well, you're a lame-o!)"

"¡Mejore que siendo un kook! (Better than being a kook!)"

"Boys, we have guests…" Raul pleaded.

"¿Qué tú me llamó, shrimp? Guarde en esto, _Maurice_, y me whomp de la voluntad tú tan difícilmente... (What did you call me, shrimp? Keep at it, Maurice, and I'll whomp you so hard…)"

"One night I ask for peace," Raul sighed, "You two have been fighting all day…"

"I apologize," Sandy said to the Stewards, "Our boys are really very good…"

"¡Quisiera verle intentar! (I'd like to see you try!)" Twister pressed, and Lars' chair scraped as he attempted to stand.

"¡Haré más que intento! (I'll do more than try!)"

"Lars, stop it this instant! Maurice, I want no more talking from you," Raul cried. The two stood at a standstill, staring one another down, Twister half-way to his feet as well. Their hands clenched in tight fists.

"Lars, Maurice, se sienta abajo (Lars, Maurice, sit down)," Sandy calmly commanded, dabbing at her mouth with her napkin. Neither made a move. "No haga que se levanta. (Do not make me get up.)" They loosened slightly, sliding back down to their seats. "No hay razón de usted dos de hacer tal escena delante de nuestras huéspedes. Hablaré a ambos usted en el vestíbulo después de que usted acabe el comer. Y ni uno ni otro de usted comerá el desierto. ¿Se entiende eso? (There is no reason for you two to make such a scene in front of our guests. I will speak to both of you in the hallway after you finish eating. And neither of you will be eating desert. Is that understood?)"

"Yes ma'am," the boys mumbled in unison, eyes lowered to their plates.

"Bien," Sandy said.

"Well," Mr. Steward exclaimed, with a hearty chuckle, "We can see who wears the pants in this household. I sense a lot of tension. I could recommend a family counselor, Raul. Did wonders for me and Ricky's relationship. You have to remember, they have plenty of friends, they need a father."

"Is that so," Raul muttered, turning a wary eye on his abashed sons, poking at their plates.

"You have to show that you care about their opinions," Mr. Steward went on, "Ricky had a lot of trouble expressing his emotions in words. That seems to be your sons' problems. Maybe if they gave one another hugs…" Twister and Lars looked at each other in horror, "And talked about what was bothering them about the other."

"You're a jerk," Twister muttered beneath his breath for only his brother to hear.

"You were born," Lars growled quietly in return.

"My sons have a healthy relationship," Raul stated firmly, patting Lars' shoulder, "They are brothers. Brothers fight. I was the same with my brothers. I don't need a counselor to tell me what I already know."

"I'm sorry," Mr. Steward smiled sheepishly, "I don't mean to suggest…well, of course it's healthy for them to fight. I'm only saying…"

"Tell us about your job, Mr. Steward," Cleo interrupted, taking a sip of her drink and turning to him brightly; hoping to change the direction of the conversation as the dour expression Sandy was wearing and the tension in Raul's jaw foreshadowed a dramatic scene to follow.

"Well, I'm a business man. I buy and sell stocks, mostly," Mr. Steward said, "But my company buys and sells businesses, which is why I'm always traveling around. Scoping out prospective investments." Mr. Steward settled into discussing his work; talking about trading stock and the many businesses he'd dealt with. The atmosphere cleared slightly, and Mr. Steward was much like his son in that he liked to talk about himself, or more specifically his work.

It wasn't very late when the Stewards left, as the children did all have school the next day. Sandy and Raul saw them off, as their kids had gone upstairs to prepare for bed.

"¿Puede usted creer a esa mujer? (Can you believe that woman?)" Sandy demanded as her husband locked the front door, "¿Ella no tiene ninguna manera? ¿Cómo ella podría decir que ' these drapes are so cultural'? ¿Qué ese medio? 'Cultural', feh! (Does she have no manners? How she could say 'these drapes are so cultural'? What does that mean? 'Cultural', feh!)" Sandy paced the living room, throwing her hands in the air, "¡Y la manera que ella habló sobre Reggie de Maurice! ¡Ella incluso no conoce a la muchacha, y para que ella sugiera... el oh, tomó toda mi energía de la voluntad de decir Maurice a la tranquilidad! ¡Realmente quisiera que él dijera a esa mujer una cosa o dos! (And the way she spoke about Maurice's Reggie! She does not even know the girl, and for her to suggest...oh, it took all my will power to tell Maurice to quiet! I really wanted him to tell that woman a thing or two!)"

"Sandra, no es así que trastornado (Sandra, do not be upset)," Raul soothed his wife, as she sat on the couch. He crossed the room to her, rubbing her shoulders tenderly, "Las conversaciones entre ese hombre y su hijo. Incluso no se parecen relacionada. Y cómo él podría sentarse allí e intentar darme consejo sobre cómo criar a mis propios hijos. Mis hijos me respetan y saben que cuido para ellos. ¿Cuál más es necesario? (The conversations between that man and his son. They do not even seem related. And how he could sit there and try to give me advice on how to raise my own sons. My sons respect me and know that I care for them. What more is needed?)"

"¿Quién ahora está trastornada? (Who is upset now?)" Sandy joked, taking her husband's hands, "Soy orgulloso de nuestros hijos. Han venido una manera larga. (I am proud of our sons. They have come a long way.)"

"Ah... y nuestro Maurice. ¿Usted lo piensa es amor? (Ah...and our Maurice. Do you think it is love?)" Raul chuckled, coming to sit beside her.

"No, él es mucho demasiado joven para el amor (No, he is much too young for love)," Sandy cried, then sighing, "Él sigue siendo mi pequeño muchacho. Pero lo supongo, sí, soy amor. Esto que sé. (He is still my little boy. But I suppose, yes, it is love. This I know.)"

"¿Cómo puede usted saber? (How can you know?)" Raul questioned, pulling Sandy into his arms.

"Usted los hombres de Rodriguez, sus ojos le engaña (You Rodriguez men, your eyes deceive you)," she told him slyly, then smiling softly, "Y, él es mi hijo. Sé su corazón, mientras que sé el corazón de Lars, corazón de Cleo, y el tuyo, por supuesto, mi amor. (And, he is my son. I know his heart, as I know Lars' heart, Cleo's heart, and yours, of course, my love.)"

"¿Ah, y usted sabe el deseo de mi corazón ahora? (Ah, and do you know my heart's desire right now?)" Raul prompted, drawing his wife from the couch towards the stairs.

"Si, si," Sandy conceded, "¿Debemos decir buonas noches a los niños primero? (Should we say good-night to the children first?)"

"¿Por qué? Ahora se crecen, ellos no nos necesitan ponerlos a la cama. (They are grown now, they do not need us to put them to bed.)"

Sandy smiled, drawing the irrepressible man into a soft kiss.

-0-0-

Reggie and Sam walked down the school hall together. People greeted them as they passed, a few extending congratulations to Reggie on her winning the cutest couple title with Ricky. She would grunt a thank-you and sheepishly shuffle her backpack. Sam remained quiet. He'd been quiet since he'd heard about the win.

"It's kind of funny, actually," he finally spoke up, "This whole thing."

"How's that?" Reggie demanded, stopping at her locker and fiddling with the combination lock.

"Well," Sam took a deep breath, "You and Twister really struggled to get this relationship going and…well…everyone thinks you're in a relationship with Ricky." Reggie slumped, pressing her forehead against the locker.

"Oh man…" she moaned, "When Twister finds out…"

"I can't believe you didn't tell him last night," Sam scolded her.

"I couldn't!" Reggie cried, "So much happened and…there just didn't seem to be a good time!"

"You couldn't find time between studying and making out?"

"Sam! How do you know we made out?"

"Twister said Raymundo flipped when he caught you guys," Sam told her, laughing, "I can just imagine. Poor Raymundo." Reggie grinned, leaning against the wall of lockers, and laying her head back.

"Me and Twist," she sighed, "It seems so weird. I've never felt this way around a guy before…you know how when you have a crush you get all lightheaded when you talk to them, and your heart starts pounding?"

"Yeah."

"It's like that _all _the time with me. Even if I think about him, or hear his name, or…jeez, it's like I have Twister on the brain," Reggie grinned, chewing her lower lip, "And I think about him all the time. He's so…you'd never think he could be so sweet, but when we were together on that date…I was so nervous, and now that I think about it, it was so ridiculous. We talked about things…he told me things I didn't even know about him, that I don't think anybody knows about him."

"Oh? Like what?" Sam inquired, his interest piqued. Reggie smiled, turning to open her locker.

"Can't tell you," she said cheekily, "He's going to Mexico for Spring break."

"He's going to miss out on Malibu," Sam stammered.

"He's actually going to ask his parents if we can go down to Mexico with them," Reggie mumbled, "I don't know if it'll happen, but it sounds cool. You can practice your Spanish down there. Hey, Sam, what do you know about Quintana Roo?"

"Is that in Mexico?"

"Twister said he was born there," Reggie mumbled, "I think I'll look it up."

"He told you about where he was born?" Sam stated, shocked, "I thought Twister didn't talk about his being…and…you know, that would be pretty cool. If I remember right, Quintana Roo is a state in Mexico on the Atlantic coast, bordering the Gulf of Mexico. I think…that's where Cancun is, right?"

"You _do _know everything," Reggie stated in stun.

"You've been hanging around Twister too much."

"Well, he is my boyfriend," Reggie grinned, looking to Sam.

"What?"

"Twister's my boyfriend," she restated, almost giddily. Sam rolled his eyes as she removed her books, "He says that Cleo and Lars are already planning to hijack the family car and drive out to Cancun, which would be awesome. And if we go, we'll meet more of Twist's cousins, I haven't met them all. We'll meet his grandparents, too, I wonder if they'd like me. It would be really bad if they didn't. Huh! What if they didn't? What if they hated me? Oh man, Sam what would I do? Grandparents opinions are a big deal…"

"Okay, take a moment, and breathe, Reg," Sam interrupted. Reggie shook her head, laughing.

"Sorry, Sam."

"It's no problem," Sam sighed, "Where is Twister anyways?"

"Who knows," Reggie muttered peevishly, "He took off somewhere with Otto this morning instead of waiting for us. I think for an early skate session at Madtown."

-0-0-

Otto's board slammed back down to the pavement, and he came to a halt, looking to his best friend seated on the benches, video camera in hand. Twister was frowning, watching some footage he'd shot earlier, but not really paying attention to it. There was a Band-Aid on his chin.

"So let me get this straight," Otto seethed, having listened to Twister complain about the night before, "That prick was your dinner guest? You had to have that weasel in your home!"

"Yeah," Twister muttered, "And his parents were total tools. Now I know where he gets it from. I thought my mom was going to totally wig out when Mrs. Steward lit up that cigarette…and I thought Mr. Steward was okay at first, but it was like he was really ranking on my dad without ranking on him!"

"Mrs. Steward smoked in your mom's presence? Does she have a death wish?"

"Worse, bro, she smoked it at the dinner table."

"Dude! Raymundo would have thrown the lady out of the house by her neck," Otto exclaimed, "Your mom must have a lot of patience!"

"Well…she did raise me and Lars," Twister shrugged, "And when Mr. Steward suggested my dad take me and Lars to family counseling…"

"He didn't!"

"Yup."

"Raymundo would have put a fist through the guy's face," Otto cried, shaking his head and coming to sit next to Twister, "Man, I can't believe what a load of lame-o's that family is."

"I heard my parents talking about it last night, after they'd left. They were really tweaked," Twister sighed, "I guess me and Lars could have had better behavior. My mom was pissed when we got in that fight…"

"You got in a fight with Lars when Ricky was over? You should have gotten in a fight with him! You and Lars could have double-teamed the dude!"

"I would've loved to, except Lars and him are on the same hockey team. If they'd gotten in a fight, Lars would've gotten kicked off the team. That team is his life, man," Twister sighed, shaking his head, "And Lars was acting buddy, buddy with the jerk. Like they were friends."

"What a traitor," Otto spat, "I thought Lars was pretty cool on the Ricky subject, but I guess jerks do stick together."

"Did I tell you Cleo's moving in?" Twister mumbled, figuring a change of subject was in order.

"Dude, she is?" Otto stammered, nearly choking on the words. He settled back against the bench, unbuckling his helmet straps, "That's cool. Then she can always help me with my Spanish homework."

"Yeah, 'cause that's what she wants to do," Twister muttered sarcastically, "Your guys' Spanish homework is lame."

"I heard you and Reg decided not to do it," Otto teased, "I guess there really are two meanings behind studying…"

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" Twister demanded, "We did the work."

"Raymundo was way aggro, you have no idea! When I got home he was really tweaked. You should've heard him," Otto chuckled, "Talking about your deathbed and shit. I'd go hands-off for awhile with Reg when you're around Raymundo. At least until he gets used to the idea you two are hot for each other." Twister grinned.

"Reggie has the hots for me…" he stated dazedly. Otto rolled his eyes, making a face of disgust, "She's my girlfriend. You know, _I _haven't even gotten used to the idea she has the hots for me."

"Could've fooled me," Otto muttered. He straightened when he saw two figures coming up the entrance into Madtown. One looked very pissed, the other a little frightened of the first.

"School starts in ten minutes," Reggie called, hands on hips. Twister perked, turning to face the two with a crooked smile.

"We know, we got it covered," Otto argued, "It only takes about three, four minutes to get to school from Madtown.

"Hey, Reg," Twister greeted, and she shook her head at him, flushed, her hands dropping to hang at her sides. He frowned, remembering what Ricky had told him the night before and wondering if she'd heard yet.

"We should get back now," Sam told them, glancing a bit warily to Reggie, "Before we get in trouble." Otto groaned, grabbing his skateboard and backpack, followed by Twister. They joined the other two a bit hesitantly, walking back towards the high school. Twister took Reggie's books from her, though she was reluctant to hand them over.

"We need to talk about something," he mumbled to her and she nodded.

"Yeah, we do."

Otto rolled his eyes and left with Sam through the front doors of the school, heading towards Otto's locker and leaving the couple behind. Twister and Reggie paused, both staring at the ground. Both knew what needed to be said. They were set on telling the other the news. A stout, blonde, freckle faced boy passed them, grinning toothily to Reggie.

"Hey, Rocket girl," he called, jokingly saying, "Don't get _too _cozy around other guys, wouldn't want your boyfriend to get jealous." Twister's hands balled into fists and he narrowed his eyes at the retreating boy.

"But I _am _her boyfriend," he growled through gritted teeth. Reggie frowned, placing a placating hand on his side.

"Twist, I have to tell you something, that boy…"

"Yeah, he thinks that…"

"I'm…"

"You're…"

"Ricky's girlfriend," they both said. They paused, looking at each other in surprise, crying, "You know?"

"Sherry called last night," Reggie explained, "She told me. How did you find out?"

"Ricky," Twister spat, "His family was over for dinner."

"Oh, jeez, Twist…I guess I should have told you," Reggie whispered, curling her fingers in his shirt, "I didn't know he was going to be over at your house for dinner. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, this is good, Reg," Twister exclaimed, taking her hand and dragging her up the school steps, "Now you can go to the yearbook people and tell them that you can't take the title because you're my girlfriend, not Ricky's."

"But, Twister, Ricky already accepted it for us," Reggie told him.

"Of course he did!" Twister cried, "But that doesn't mean you can't tell them you don't want it!"

"Twist, it's just a stupid yearbook thing," Reggie argued, "Me and Ricky are friends, so it's not like it's a big deal! It's kind of funny, and it's nice…being voted for cutest couple…"

"Because you and him do make a cute couple," Twister shot back cynically, suddenly enraged, "He's all mature and shit. Yeah, you two do make a perfect fucking couple. And if I didn't know better, I'd think you were actually happy about this whole goddamned thing," he slammed the doors of the school open, storming through.

"Twister," Reggie called and he stopped.

"_What_?"

"Can I have my books back?" she demanded. He blushed, turning and handing the texts over, "Thanks," she mumbled.

"Whatever," he grunted, turning back down the hall and disappearing around a corner. Reggie frowned, picking at the binding of her English text and contemplating how that conversation could have gone better.

-0-0-

Sam sat down in his garage, busying himself with replacing the wheels of his skateboard. He'd said good-bye to Otto, agreeing to meet Rocket boy at Madtown skate park in an hour, and watched Reggie disappear, most likely to help make sure the finishing touches got put on the school newspaper. She would probably join them later at the Shore Shack for a brief snack. He hadn't seen Twister at all, figuring the redheaded boy probably had an AV club meeting or art club. So he was surprised to find Twister nervously standing outside the Dullard house, pacing back and forth, eyes on the ground, kicking at small pebbles. Every now and then, he would look considerably thoughtful at the front door, before lowering his eyes once more. Sam sighed, putting his board down and walking down the driveway.

"Hey, Twister," he greeted and the other boy jumped, startled.

"What's up, Squid," Twister stammered, forcing a sheepish grin.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked suspiciously. They were good friends, but Twister didn't usually come calling on him without the rest of the gang. If Twister was going looking for anyone, it was almost alway Otto, or more recently, Reggie.

"Um…I was wondering…could we maybe…talk?"

"About?" Sam sighed, expecting Twister to need help with some homework.

"Reggie." Sam was, needless to say, taken aback with that answer.

"Certainly," Sam eagerly accepted, motioning towards the garage, "Come on. We can talk privately in there." They trekked up towards the secluded area and Sam turned a plastic crate over for Twister to sit on. He took his own workbench stool. "What's on your mind?" Sam asked, ignoring the nagging feeling that, directed to Twister, that sentence sounded wrong.

"I need your help with something," Twister mumbled.

"What's that?" Sam felt the awnings of a groan coming, wondering if they were back to Twister needing help on homework.

"I need you to make me mature."

Sam blinked several times.

"Did you just say…" he began, then shaking his head, "I'm gonna regret this. Why do you need me to make you mature?"

"So Reggie can be proud that she's dating me," Twister explained as though it were obvious. Sam took a deep breath.

"And why do you feel she isn't proud to be dating you now?"

"Sam, she hasn't told anyone about us and she's really stoked about being voted cutest couple with Ricky and we got in this huge fight about it and…"

"Twister, calm down!" Sam cried, "But what do you want me to do?"

"Teach me to be mature," Twister pleaded, "You're really mature and smart and shit. Teach me to be like that. Reggie's always dated guys who…well…weren't like me. Guys who were like Ricky, and you, and stuff…" Sam slumped, rubbing his eyes. As was usual when he talked to Twister, he was getting a headache.

"Did you ever think that maybe Reggie likes you because you're you? Because you're not like those other guys?" he questioned.

"Are you going to help me or not?" Twister cried, pouting.

"Oh, definitely. I've noticed a few things that could use improvement when it comes to you. I'm just saying…because…you know…I'm kind of obligated," Sam said, clapping his hands together and leaning back, "So when do we get started?"

-0-0-

Reggie stood nervously on the Rodriguezes' doorstep. She leaned forward, tentatively ringing the doorbell. It was their first official boyfriend, girlfriend fight. She wasn't certain how long she was supposed to wait before going to see Twister. But she really wanted to talk to him, to explain things, and maybe apologize for the way she'd sounded.

The door swung open and Lars stood in the entryway. He smirked, leaning in the frame and crossing his arms over his chest.

"How's it going, Rocket girl," he sneered. Reggie frowned, folding her arms in front of her and looking away peevishly.

"Twist here?" she asked.

"Nope," Lars answered, "He hasn't come home from school yet. You two didn't walk home together?"

"No, I had things to do for journalism," Reggie replied snidely, "Could you tell him I came by and that I'm looking for him?"

"Why don't you wait for him here?" Lars suggested, "He should be home soon. He's got to drop his stuff off, right?"

"I guess," Reggie mumbled, "If you don't mind." Lars opened the door wide enough for Reggie to slide in.

"It's cool, actually, I've been meaning to talk to you about something…"

* * *

END A/N: No time to talk. Rocket Power on now. FOUR MINUTES TOO LATE! 

Please excuse any grammatical and typing errors. PLEASE REVIEW. Thanks to all of you for telling me which Otto coupling you prefer, it rocked.

AND...

THAnks for READING...


	14. A Dim Light In the Dark pt7

A/N: I'm sorry it took so long. I've had a lot on my plate lately, and to top it all off, I got sick! I don't write well when I'm sick, what with the fuzziness of the head. I still am sick, right now, but I finally managed to make a chapter come out. Not to mention, I've been working on something else...but that's a surprise. Only one person knows about that...

Anyways, Thanks for the reviews, gang!

Frey: Okay, I guess you're the first person I get to talk to. I'll keep it brief. I hear what you're trying to say, but you didn't say it very well. I know you weren't trying to offend me, but a lot of the things you said didn't make me think highly of you. I first of all didn't appreciate you just writing a long review simply restating things I've already made clear in my author's notes as things I know. Second, the conjugation thing during the study session, you may not believe this, but that was a typo. I pulled those straight from my Spanish workbook, and somehow left the 's' off the end. I make a lot of typos in English, too, yet you don't seem to feel the need to point those out to me. Finally, I don't appreciate you trying to tell me what my story is about. Please understand, this is my story, and last I checked, it was a romance. I could have just left the spanish translations out all together and simply put the English phrase and said, 'but they said this in spanish'. I put the Spanish in to give more of a realism/depth to my story, but the story is not about the Spanish language. You make it sound as though you feel the Mexican culture is all about the Spanish language, and I don't feel that's the case at all. And you make the mistake of assuming I'm not trying to learn the language, nor love the language. I do love the language. I don't think you realize how hard it is to find a beta reader, period, and for another language, forget about it. I have been working things out with a girl who's been reviewing my story, and while I won't be able to always get her help on the Spanish phrases, and I won't be completely ditching my online translator, I'm going to make an attempt. I find it funny, however, that the native speakers are the ones who are all "Oh, your Spanish is fine" and it's the students all pointing out "well, this is crap". I guess because the native Spanish speakers realize, my story isn't about a language, it's about the characters. Maybe I'm just making assumptions. Huh. And I said I'd keep it brief.

ASailorsGirl: I'M SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG! I know you were getting antsy, but hey, you promised me an update on your fic and it ain't there yet. So, where is it?

WritingOnPaper: I could tell you stories about me getting lost that would make your stories pale in comparison. I am the queen of getting lost. I work at a Pizza Hut, right, and I have a car, so people ask me why I'm not a delivery driver. I just tell them my stories of getting lost and they understand. My manager likes to joke, that if I were a delivery driver, he'd send me on a delivery down the street and two hours later get a call from me about how I'm lost and I don't know where I am but there's all these signs saying "Los Angeles" around. HA! And it's true...that's the sad part. Now, who's talking random stuff? Anyways, sorry the update took so damn long.

TheAngelofAnarchy: Lil' sisters, what a pain. Anyways, where you at? I'm missing a few reviews from you, I'm positive of it...those as to where, I do not know. How you doing? Everything cool?

Addictions2ShowsRGood4U: I love your name. It's like my motto. Now, if only my family would understand...stupid family. I'm glad I could change your 'tude towards Rocket Power.

VUWildcat: Phew. At least you weren't having dirty thoughts. Maybe that was just me...anyhoo! Yeah, most usually, people don't like change. Me especially. CHANGE IS BAD! Unless it's like changing your underwear or something...go ahead and change that...um...I'm sick, right now, if that explains anything. And I'm listening to Nirvana, too. NIRVANA ROCKS! gramma take me home...gramma take me home...

Amy: YAY! What are we cheering for? CHEETOS! Nope, don't like cheetos. Not all the time, actually. Sometimes I do. Sometimes I don't.

RoxySurferGurl623: I have to know, where are you at? You talk a lot about having snobs all around. I guess all of you do. I've never really been confronted with snobs, least not that I can remember...hell, I can't remember yesterday...I think I worked, which would explain it...oh, and I got a car! A viper...1:18 the actual size...from my RGM (store manager), because I rock. What am I talking about? Damn cold medicine...I can't tell you who Otto hooks up with, or ends up with. Would ruin the story. I can just tell you, his choice doesn't come for a long time.

domISlost: Don't hate Reg yet...you still don't know where she's coming from on that issue. Let her say her piece, then judge. I'm glad you liked (or more appropriately, disliked) the parents. Parents, nope, not really better behaved. You'd be surprised, but a lot of adults, have really bad behaviour, and most, don't know good manners. I know that I have better manners than my dad for instance. I'm constantly reprimanding him on the rude things he does or says. We were at Wal-mart waiting to get rung up, and the lady was taking a little long and my dad was all "dude, hurry up grandma!" and things like that. I'm all, "dude, take a chill pill. We're not in any huge rush, daddy-o, calm down!" In those exact words too...I am an eccentric person. People tell me I'm weird all the time. You don't think I'm weird, right? Um...what else, what else...I ain't a Lars/Reg shipper either. That's another couple I can't understand. I know people see the Lars 'bad boy" connection, and that girls do usually go for the bad boy, but let's be honest, the way Lars treats Reg's little bro, I don't think she'd be warming up to him anytime soon. Considering how close Otto and Reg are.

Warina-Kinomoto: Thanks! You're so sweet!

Lu: Thanks, I'm very flattered. I know it's not the best out there, but that you feel it's the best you ever read, it really motivates me to keep going! You ROCK!

peachy15: All this update soon stuff makes me feel guilty for taking so long to update...ugh! Anyways, here it is, the next chapter.

KCluvsMI: I saw errors, but I always do.

RelaxingPikachu: Thanks for the praise on the first story. I liked it too...even as it wasn't exactly how I wanted it to be. And yeah, it has been awhile since you've reviewed this story. But your reviews for Ojos De Los Muertos knocked my socks off, so I forgive you. I guess I never really got from the series that Reggie hated Lars, or even disliked him in a great deal. She didn't like him, that was for certain, but the guy was a jerk to them. I personally favor Twist and Lars interactions more than anything. I love bonding moments between them. It just plucks at my heartstrings, how Lars can torment his brother so, but when it comes down to it, you know he loves him. I say that everytime I watch the show and Lars comes along to pick on Twist. I go, "awww...Twister, you're brother loves you." And everybody else in the room stares at me blankly. He's the one...he likes all pretty songs...and he likes to sing along...and he likes to shoot his gun...Sorry. Nirvana moment. I love that song. How funny that the day you review is the day I update. You're like good luck or something...huh.

Now that that's settled. In regards to my spanish: I've asked jovhyz to help me, to which she's agreed, and she's been helping me priorly to an extent. She actually lives in Mexico, so I know I can trust her translations. However, the reliability issue. She's in school and that makes getting the translations hard. Which means, I'm not ditching my online translator. Um...oh, and I know you all tried to point it out to me, but I have to tell you all, you're all bad at pointing out mistakes. Everyones all telling me "there's confusion with the tu", and I'm like, okay, what does that mean. I'M CONJUGATING WRONG, THAT'S WHAT! Anyways, I figured it out on my own. I put two and two together, and figured it out. Thank you. I should probably tell you all, to try and be understanding. I did take Spanish classes, and I passed my first year with flying colors. Second year, not so much, but the teacher sucked. I learned nothing from her. Now, I'm trying to recall a language I haven't studied in two or so years, I can't even remember what I did this morning. I think I had breakfast...have I eaten anything? Oh shit, maybe I should...but have I? Oh man...um...

Anyhoo...ENJOY!

* * *

Chapter 7

Otto was startled when the downstairs door slammed shut. He pushed himself away from his desk, where his sprawled out homework was covered by his skateboard and tools. He's been replacing the wheels with new ones he'd bought earlier in the week. He exited his room, coming to lean on the banister, and finding Reggie at the bottom of the staircase. She looked somewhat disgruntled.

"What's up, Reg?" Otto called, grinning, "What's for dinner?" She shook her head, running her fingers through her hair distractedly and kicking off her shoes.

"Order a pizza," she muttered, "I'll pay."

"What's wrong with you?" Otto asked, starting down the stairs. Though he was more than willing to take Reggie up on the pizza offer, it wasn't like her. She was always responsible, always had her dinners planned out and ready to cook. She looked…agitated.

"Nothing," she mumbled, then crossing to the living room and slumping on the couch, "Okay, maybe something…"

"What?"

"It's about Twister."

Otto rolled his eyes but still jogged down the stairs, coming to sit next to his sister. He knew it would get uncomfortable, but he couldn't just leave her in that depressed condition.

"Okay, what happened?" he sighed. Reggie frowned, burying her head in her knees.

"I got voted cutest couple with Ricky," she moaned, "And me and Twist got in a fight over it."

"You did?" Otto cried, incredulously, "Who'd think you'd make a cute couple with _that_ shoobie?"

"Apparently everyone at school," Reggie whispered, "_Including _Twister."

"What? What do you mean by that?" Otto demanded. She shook her head again, straightening. Her eyes shining with what Otto hoped weren't tears. If she started crying, he didn't know what he would do. Panic, most likely.

"I don't know. It's just something he said…he was mad, he couldn't of meant it…oh man, Otto, I really screwed up!" Reggie cried.

"_You _screwed up?"

"I didn't mean for it to sound the way it did," Reggie went on, "But he took it all out of context, and…I shouldn't of said anything. But he was being ridiculous! It's just a stupid yearbook thing."

"Reg, you're not making any sense," Otto interrupted, "Start with an explanation, then move your way into a rant." Reggie nodded, taking a deep, unsteady breath.

"This morning, that's what he had to talk to me about. He wanted me to go down there and decline the title, even after Ricky already accepted it for us…"

"Of course that prick did," Otto muttered, in regards to Ricky.

"I couldn't go up there and turn it down, could I? I mean, Ricky was being cool about it, how would it seem if I suddenly acted uncool about it? It would hurt Ricky's feelings…"

"You didn't tell them you didn't want it?" Otto snapped, "Reg!"

"Otto, you gotta understand," Reggie retorted, "I never get voted for these kinds of things. Most athletic, most likely to be a success, yes, but cutest _anything_…"

"_Reg_!"

"Well, I just…I was flattered…I mean, the school thought I was cute with someone…and…"

"Oh god, Reg, _please_ tell me you didn't say any of this to Twister," Otto cried, horrified. Reggie lowered her eyes, chewing her bottom lip. "Reg! What's wrong with you?"

"What's the big deal? I mean, Twister way overreacted when I said…"

"_Regina_! Think how it must have sounded to him," Otto pressed, "Like you're actually happy about being voted cutest couple with Ricky…"

"Ricky has nothing to do with it! I don't understand…"

"Well, maybe Twister didn't pick up on that fact! Think about it, Reg, how would you feel if it was Twister!"

"Jeez, Otto," Reggie mumbled, "If it was Twister instead of Ricky, I wouldn't have gotten in that fight and…"

"That's not what I mean," Otto spat, "What if Twister was voted cutest couple with some other girl? Some girl that wasn't you, but was Twister's friend? And that you knew wanted to date him."

"Ricky doesn't want to…"

"Or dated him previously!"

Reggie pouted, thoughtful. Then she moaned, falling back against the couch and covering her face with her hands.

"Oh man! I really screwed up!"

"You need to talk to him," Otto said wisely.

"I know. I tried to go there today, but he never came…and…well, Lars was there, and…" Reggie frowned, straightening her shirt, and sitting up as though suddenly reminded of something.

"What?"

"Nothing. Never mind. I'll call Twist tonight…if he'll talk to me. Order a pizza, Otto. I'm not hungry. I'll be in my room," Reggie said, sighing and hefting herself up to the stairs. Otto watched in silence, shaking his head before heading to get the phone and call the delivery place.

-0-0-

Sam took a deep breath, leaning over the table and his notebook. Twister sat across from him, glancing up nervously, and looking around in awe. They were sitting in the library after school, having agreed to meet there the day before.

"So, where do we start?" Twister asked, then in a small whisper, "Wow. _This _is the library? There sure are a lot of books in here…"

"I've made a list of _all_ your faults," Sam started, donning an astute persona, "Wrote them down accordingly, and the different ways we can go about fixing them." Twister frowned, flipping through the notebook, page after page covered in writing.

"I'm not this bad…" he mumbled, "_Bites his nails_…? Only when I'm taking tests! _Fidgets_…I do not!"

"Those are just little things I thought you could think about stopping…" Sam explained sheepishly, "The bigger things are at the back…" Twister looked up skeptically.

"_Picking on me, calling me the Squid_…Dude, Squid, what is this?"

Sam slammed the notebook shut, chuckling nervously.

"I've…uh…narrowed your main faults down to five things. Hygiene, organization, academics, attitude, and finances," he stated, clearing his throat with an authoritative 'ahem', "I think we should start small. Like for instance, bettering your hygiene"

"I have good hygiene," Twister snapped, indignant, then scrunching his nose, "And I will take no more insults to my family!"

"Um…what do _you _think hygiene means?" Sam mumbled, "Hygiene is cleanliness, an ability to take care of oneself..."

"Oh," Twister mouthed, leaning back and grinning, "I'm a very clean person."

"Ah huh," Sam breathed, "But just for the hell of it…Twist, when's the last time you took a shower?" Twister frowned, rolling his eyes up in concentration. He grinned meekly back down at Sam.

"What month is it?"

"How many times have you worn that shirt since its last cleaning?" Sam continued.

"Um…" Twister chewed his bottom lip, "Define 'cleaning'."

"How often do you apply deodorant?" Sam pressed, tilting his head. Twister puckered his lips, before tucking his chin to his chest and tentatively sniffing himself. He wrinkled his nose.

"After every shower," he muttered, slumping.

"Enough said," Sam groaned, "I'm beginning to wonder how Reg can date a disgusting pig like you."

"Hey!" Twister shouted, "I used to have a pig, they're not disgusting! They're actually very clean animals!"

"I'm sorry I insulted the pigs," Sam muttered sarcastically.

"Well, you're not forgiven."

Sam rolled his eyes, before continuing, "I think you should start by bathing at least every other day," Twister opened his mouth to speak but was promptly cut off, "And no, 'bathing' in the ocean when surfing and swimming does not count. Nor does sun 'bathing'. In fact, after trips to the beach, you should probably shower."

"Man, too much water…" Twister pouted.

"Coming from you, that statement loses meaning," Sam pointed out, "Deodorant should be applied after every shower, yes, and every morning when you change from your nightwear to your clothes. You need to brush your teeth at least twice a day, then floss and mouthwash afterwards. Clean your face at least twice everyday, you can do that during the shower and…"

"Jeez, Sam, I thought you wanted me to be cleaner, not turn into the damned bald guy on those cleaning products…"

"Twister, these are things that every normal person does," Sam cried, "I'm surprised you're in such good health, considering the way you maintain your body!"

"How'm I supposed to remember to do all of this?"

"Write it down, if you have to," Sam shook his head, "It should become habit, a ritual if you must."

"_Anything _else?"

"Yes. Your laundry. Do you do your own laundry?" Sam asked.

"No. I'm supposed to, but after a while, my mom gets tired of me wearing the same dirty things over and over again, so she does it for me," Twister smirked, "I got that one all figured out. Sweet, huh?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure," Sam mumbled, "From now on, Twister. You have to start doing your laundry at the end of the week…or every other week if you can."

"_What_? Squid…I don't know if…"

"I can teach you," Sam interrupted, "Now…what else…? How often do you shave?"

"Huh? I don't know…"

"Twister, you have strong Hispanic roots. Unless you're going to grow a mustache - which, with your bone structure, I wouldn't suggest - you need to start shaving more often to avoid that five o'clock shadow," Sam told him, "And do you wear cologne, and aftershave?"

"Dude, Sam," Twister cried, "My mom doesn't even know all this stuff about me!"

"If I'm going to change your life, Twister, I need to know almost as much about you as you know. And yes, that means more than your mom knows," Sam sighed.

"Oh," Twister murmured, "Then I guess I should tell you about that rash…"

"Okay, too much information!" Sam yelped, eyes wide, "I don't need to know that much!"

"But you just said…"

"I know what I just said, I take it back," Sam whimpered, then rubbing his forehead with the tips of his fingers, moaning softly, "But I'll never erase the image…"

"I don't know what you're thinking…" Twister muttered, "I was just saying…"

"I guess that leads us to something else we need to talk about. It falls under the attitude category, but it's something you should start working on right now," Sam pressed on.

"What's that?"

"You're…uh…well…bluntness," Sam explained, "Or, more specifically, the…uh…less than intelligent things you tend to say."

"Squid, I can't stop the stupid things that come out of my mouth! Believe me…"

"Just…I want you to repeat this phrase," Sam told him, "Think before you speak."

"Think before you speak."

"Now, I want you to say that in your head over and over again," Sam commanded.

"But why does telling you to think before speaking help me?" Twister questioned, confused. Sam sighed, lowering his head and shaking it wearily. There was that headache again.

"No, Twister, I want _you _to think before _you _speak."

"Then why didn't you just say that?"

"Because I want you to keep that phrase in mind, to remember it."

"_What _phrase?"

Sam slapped his forehead, taking a deep, composing breath. It was going to be a long afternoon, and the lesson didn't look like it was ending any time soon.

"Twister," Sam started again, his voice shaky with underlying frustration, "I want you to tell yourself, before opening your mouth, to think before speaking. And then, to follow those instructions. Before you speak, think."

"So, just keep thinking, 'think before I speak'?"

"_Yes_," Sam hissed with exasperation, clapping his hands together, "Egad, I think he's got it!"

"Who's egad?"

"I spoke too soon."

Sam flipped through the notebook once more, glancing over the pages, and sighing every now and then. He looked up. Someone was saying something. Words were being spoken, but Sam couldn't figure out the source, or even what was being said. He looked around the library, before his eyes fell on Twister. The redhead was looking at the table, spinning a quarter in boredom. His lips were moving.

"Think before I speak…think before I speak…" he was whispering to himself in chant form. Sam closed his eyes, taking a painfully deep breath, before snapping his eyes back open and all but narrowing them to threatening slits in the direction of the oblivious Twister.

"Twist," Sam seethed, and said boy looked up with a slight smile and complete ignorance to his wrongdoings, "You're saying it out loud."

"Saying what out loud?"

"The phrase," Sam pressed, "You're supposed to say it in your head, to yourself, so _no one else can hear!_"

"Oh," Twister mumbled, "You didn't tell me that part." Sam rubbed the back of his neck, errantly licking his lips, and flipping the pages more loudly.

"I'm going to write out a schedule for you…a hygiene schedule. You'll take it home today, and I'll make a new one at home on my computer tonight to give to you tomorrow," Sam said, "You'll need to follow it exactly." Sam tore a blank piece of paper from the notebook, quickly scribbling some things down, "This is all very important to making a more mature you. And that's what you'd like, right, to be more mature?"

"I don't know…I'm starting to think, with all this shit I have to do…is it really worth it?"

"Is Reggie worth it?" Sam inquired, looking up intently at Twister, who lowered his eyes and nodded.

"Yeah, definitely."

Sam handed the paper over and Twister folded it, shoving it in his jeans' pocket. Sam closed his notebook, putting it casually into his backpack and then looking to Twister expectantly.

"Let's recap today's lesson. What did we learn?" Sam announced.

"That I'm stupid and smelly," Twister moaned, "And you're mean to pigs."

"Ah…nothing we didn't already know, then?" Sam joked and Twister scowled. They looked up when the library door opened, and a recognizable figure slipped in. Twister turned shamefaced, slipping down in his chair, and laying his chin on the table. Sam smiled.

"Hi, Reg," he greeted.

"Hey, Sammy," Reggie replied, then in a soft, sheepish whisper, "Hi, Twist." Twister simply nodded acknowledgement, not even looking up. She fidgeted slightly, shifting her weight, and a contortion of different, unreadable, emotions swept her features, "I've been looking everywhere for you guys…I wanted to talk, Twist," Still nothing, "I really wanted to apologize, for what I said yesterday. I was completely wrong, and completely out of line…" Sam glanced nervously to Twister, who was biting his lower lip, yet, remaining stoically silent. Reggie lowered her eyes, her voice growing unsteady, "Um…the fact is…Ricky had nothing to do with my liking the idea I was voted cutest couple. I just…I never get voted for those types of things, and I thought…well…it really meant something to me. That, you know, people did see me as something more than an athlete and tomboy and…you know, it was flattering what with the ragging I usually get for playing so many sports and hanging with all the guys and never wearing dresses and skirts. But you're right. If I'm not voted cutest couple with you, then I shouldn't want the title. And, having thought about it, I really don't. It is a stupid yearbook thing, but the thought behind it does matter. If everyone thinks me and Ricky are a couple, and I don't set them straight, I'm lying to them, and hurting you. So…I already went down there and told them that I didn't want it because me and Ricky aren't a couple." She shifted, staring expectantly down at her feet. Sam looked to Twister, who was gazing deeply at the book shelves, his brow furrowed. He said nothing. There was silence. Reggie took a deep breath, sniffing, wiping a stray tear from her cheek, "I guess you're still mad at me…" she mumbled, "Okay. I understand…I'll see you guys later." She turned, unsteady, leaving the library.

Sam let his breath out in a great whoosh, wheeling on Twister.

"_What is your deal_? Why didn't you say anything? She's right there pouring her heart out, and you completely snub her!" Sam cried, "Twister! What's with you? You were being a total jerk!"

"_What_?" Twister demanded, "I was only doing what you said."

"What?" Sam stated, taken aback.

"Well…" Twister began, fiddling with his fingers, "I was telling myself - so that only I could hear- to 'think before I speak'…but I didn't know what I was supposed to be thinking about…so…" Sam growled softly.

"Crap!" he roared, and the librarian glanced in their direction meaningfully, "Twister, for five minutes, forget what I said, and go get her!"

"But how'm I supposed to be mature if I forget what you said…"

"If you lose Reggie," Sam pointed out, "You really have no reason to be mature!"

Twister didn't need anymore prodding, bolting out the library doors and down the hallway after Reggie. He grabbed her elbow, slightly winded from the sudden sprint, but coming to a halt. She turned, her eyes red-rimmed, confused. She looked like she'd been crying, or ready to cry. He didn't care which, either one was enough to break his heart. He slipped his hand into the small of her back, gently drawing her forward into a light kiss. She sank into it with ease, her arms coming to wrap around his neck. When she pulled away, they touched foreheads, looking bashfully down into one another's eyes.

"Sorry," Reggie mumbled.

"Yeah," Twister replied, "I got that. I'm sorry, too, that I didn't say anything back there…you know how I am…it took awhile…to…you know…register."

"Yeah. We cool?"

"You really went down there and told those yearbook people you didn't want the title."

"Yeah."

"Totally cool," Twister grinned, brushing his lips against hers once more before straightening and taking her hand in his own, "And you told them that Ricky's not your boyfriend, right?"

"Yup."

"And that I am."

"Um…" Reggie offered a candid smile, "I didn't know I was supposed to tell them that part." Twister frowned, pouting and she rolled her eyes, giggling softly, and pressing another kiss to his lips, "So what are you and Sam up to?" she asked lightly. Twister's eyes went wide, and he quickly scoured his mind for an excuse.

"Nothing," he blurted out. _Brilliant_, he silently berated himself. Reggie raised a suspicious brow.

"Oh," she commented casually, "This isn't the kind of nothing that gets you into trouble, is it?"

"No. Nope. No, ma'am. Actually, this is the kind of nothing that…" Twister trailed off, chewing the inside of his cheek thoughtfully, "You see…nothing is done…and nothing is…well…it's nothing…so nothing….means, no trouble. See?" Reggie nodded, obviously at a loss for words. Twister sighed, relieved, "I got to go back…you know…to do nothing. I'll see you later?"

"Yeah," Reggie managed, still confused.

"If you're sticking around, I can walk you home," Twister offered.

"Yeah, I've got to finish a few things for journalism. I'll meet you out front of the school?"

"Yup," Twister placed a kiss on her cheek before leaving back towards the library. Reggie blinked a few times, before smiling, and turning to head back down the hallway, rubbing her face with her hands wearily. At least things were back to good, she told herself.

Twister slumped back at the table in the library. Sam looked silently, questioningly at him. For a time, neither said anything, simply exchanging blank stares.

"So?" Sam finally prodded.

"So…what?" Twister returned.

"So, what happened?" Sam cried, receiving another annoyed glance from the librarian, "Are you and Reg a happy-go-lucky couple once more?"

"Uh…I guess. We made up, if that's what you mean," Twister smirked, lost in thought, "Yeah…made up," he mumbled goofily.

"Then I guess there's no more need to go through with this silly making-a-more-mature-you plan, huh?" Sam asked hopefully. Twister snapped back to reality, wide-eyed.

"Hell no," he answered, "I need you to keep helping me, Sam! I can't risk losing Reg!"

"But didn't you hear everything she said…?" Sam pressed.

"Yes. Well…most of it…I was partially thinking before I was speaking, so I wasn't really paying _too _much attention…why, was it good?"

"_Twister!_"

"What?"

"Love really is blind, and deaf too it seems," Sam stated, astounded, "So…uh…I guess just follow that schedule and we'll meet at the Shack tomorrow?"

"Yes, sir, Squidmeister, sir," Twister grinned. Sam frowned.

"Go back to thinking before you speak."

-0-0-

Ricky frowned, watching as the team ran through passing drills. He took a swill of water from his drinking bottle, and poured the rest over his head. Practice had run for a good time, and he was a little worn down. He nodded to a teammate, that came to sit down next to him. Malcolm, or something along those lines.

"Hey, congrats on the score with Reggie Rocket, by the way," Malcolm said, smug, "She's a total babe. How are things going with her, anyways? Physically, I mean…and feel free to not spare any details…" A few of the other boys perked at that, skating over. Ricky smirked. He liked the attention.

"Well," Ricky started, "I probably shouldn't say anything…"

"More like you couldn't," Lars commented, removing his helmet to take a drink of his own water. Ricky scowled, as the others turned their attention to the easily more well-respected boy. Ricky had learned quickly, and at great pains to his dignity, that Lars commanded the group of hockey players. When he spoke, everyone fell silent and gave him their full attention, "Seeing as how you're not dating her."

"But we were dating," Ricky retorted, "And far be it for me to…"

"If you guys wanted any details on the Rocket girl, you'd have to ask Twister," Lars interjected, "The dweeb is her boyfriend."

"That dork is dating Reggie?" one of the boys whistled, "I guess the kid deserves semi-props, I've seen him on a skateboard."

"Yeah, that guy can grab serious air," another boy commented.

"He's still a dork," Lars muttered, indignantly.

"And what's more, a dork with a babe. Which is far worse, am I right?" Ricky put in, easily catching on to the change of game Lars had introduced. The other guys grunted their agreement. Lars simply took note of Ricky's ability to turn the tables on the conversation. He was a dangerous boy, that much was for certain. Wickedly cunning, and Lars hated that kind of opposition. Hurting Ricky was going to be particularly difficult, as with each passing day the aptly dubbed 'Golden Boy' was gaining a more reputable position. He was making more friends, expanding his crowd, winning everyone over with his slick personality, painstakingly well detailed charisma, and unfortunately good looks.

Lars took another drink of his water, seeing in the distance, Reggie and Twister walking together hand-in-hand. He saw, from the corner of his eye, Ricky unhappily notice them as well, and Lars could see the gears turning in that conniving mind. Golden boy needed to be taken down, Lars realized, soon.

* * *

END A/N: Short chap, I know...and I bet you're all wondering, "did Lars show her the tape, did Lars show her the tape?" Um...hahahaha...my secret. You don't get to know until later what that conversation she had with Lars was about. I know the fight between Twister and Reg didn't last long, but I needed something to push Twist over the edge to want to change himself. Uh huh...so what's in store for the Rocket gang. I bet you're all on the edge of your seats...heheh... 

Um...

Oh, guess what I discovered? My radio in my car, actually picks up music. I have a really old car, and the radio doesn't always work. Now, I've recently discovered I pick up AM stations, and more specifically, Spanish stations (which are the only stations on AM that play music as far as I've found). So guess what I've been listening to in my car. I'm actually starting to know the songs, too, where a song comes on and I'm all like, "YAY! I like this song!" And then I sing along...and their really traditional kind of Spanish music, too, not like pop Spanish music. If there's one kind of rap I like, it's Spanish rap. It just sounds better. I've heard Korean rap, and Japanese rap, and English rap (of course), oh, and British rap. Spanish rap just sounds so much better. I don't know why. Like on the Crazy/Beautiful soundtrack. Someone should write a Crazy/Beautiful Rocket Power parady between Reg and Twist...or anyone else, I guess. That would be awesome. I'd read it. I love that movie. I love the songs, also. But...uh...back to Spanish music in my car. It's gotten bad, to the point where I'm kind of addicted. I need to listen to it when I'm driving, and I want to listen to it outside of the car. At work, they turned the radio on and it was set on a Spanish station (because the openers are all Spanish speakers, for the most part, the manager at least) but anyways, they went to change the station, and I'm like "NO! I want to listen to that!" And the guy changing it's like, "but I don't know what they're saying"...that's the thing about Spanish music though, and most music in general, you don't really need to know what they're saying. You can just feel it in the singers voice. Oh, I get the gist of what they're singing about, I can pick out a few words and understand, but if I didn't, I still could pick up on it. There's one song, that I really like, goes "Corazon..." okay, shit, I don't know. It's pretty though. I turn the radio up when it comes on and try and sing along, I love it.

I bought a Nirvana CD too, a while back. I'm addicted to it. I listen to it over and over, along with my Offspring CD, my Daughter Darling CD, and then, of course, sometimes I just _have to_ pop a Greenday CD in. I have Dookie, Nimrod, International Superhits, Lookout No. 300 CD (don't know if that's what it's called, its just a compilation of all their early work before they were big and famous), and American Idiot, of course, that CD is worshippable, without a doubt. I also pop in Sublime every now and then. Just an idea of what I've been listening to lately. My dad's been buying CDs lately, like mad. He's got this whole CD project in his mind. Music is addictive, ain't it?

I should wrap this up. Um...this is what happens when I don't update in awhile. My A/N get ridiculously long! Anyhow, there's plently of material here, so REVIEW!

Please excuse any grammatical and typing errors, and...

THANKS FOR READING.

all in all is all we are...all in all is all we are...(Nirvana again!)


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